I hesitated, not wishing to call it out.
My cards splayed out on the table,
the dealer looking at me expectantly
Your cards are held close to your chest
and I cannot tell what floats in your eyes,
and the dealer perhaps knows,
but His face remains neutral.
You steal glances at me,
perhaps looking to see what cards I hold,
and I gather myself over them,
leaning over the table,
leading you with my smile
but nervous and anxious at the same time.
I know what is on the line,
and what my limits are.
These unexpected cards that I have been dealt
seem to whisper in my ear for me to call out,
to turn them all over and say eff it
and take that chance.
But I know my limits.
As do you.
You glance at me occasionally
And I catch you trying to read me.
I look at the dealer,
looking for a hint, some help, some indication
that my way now is the right move
but He gives me nothing. Silence reigns.
My heartbeat thumps in my ears,
and yours remains undetectable.
You are cool and collected,
I am getting hot and nervous,
sweat beading down my face, into my eyes,
crowding out the voice that implores me to
ignore your perhaps-ness and what-if hooks.
My heart quickens, my eyes blink,
my lips purse and,
I pass on the hit.