Staring at the motion detector
I try not to blink.
We play this game twenty times
a night, two bucks a match.
The motion detector is rich,
it has never lost, and winning,
it throws a harsh light
that blinds my skull.
I wish we played for love,
Or that losing could be winning,
And my fears of touching you
Could dissolve like salt.
The upside of so much failure:
I can stare a long time without thinking,
or making plans, or remembering-
all things which make me twitch.
One night, I bet a whole fifty.
Luck has a way of bubbling up
at the trickiest moments.
Of course, I blinked. It was over.
Goodnight Sara, I said,
into the white blinding star.
Goodnight, she said, mirroring me.