I spent the night and shared it’s embrace;
watching the rain of diamonds
and wrapped in a cold blanket
that kissed me all over like a lover.
The cards spent that night with me too.
They had become a face to my soul
and a portrait of the longings
of my heart.
They were laid out more times than I can remember
as a cigarette hung low over them,
The glow of the King of Swords and Queen of of Cups;
gazing at a ruined tower and Death, over and over again.
I had stopped
reflecting and shuffled the deck again
and knocked on them slowly,
I turned my numbed gaze to the
cards again, only to find they had not changed,
in that stare,
with vast, cool and unsympathetic eyes,
if the jump would hurt.
I tucked the cards into my pocket
and went back inside to write a note
to no one in particular,
wishing upon wish,
for the phone to ring
and she would be there again.
But it sat quietly,
like a silken cat
and stared at me.
The cards would be my carpet, I thought,
and I will ride them like Aladdin
through the sky and onto the pavement;
…they would fly with me.
Lighting another cigarette,
I shook out the match
and examined the open window
and the balcony outside.
I knocked the deck drew three last cards.
They fell like stones in a canyon
and I smiled as they had changed,
reflected in the amber glow,
and their gaze as well.
I reached for the phone
and dialed her number
hoping to hear her voice once last time.
her sweet, ashen voice,
and then end it.
Indeed, and as I expected,
she did not answer.
She was with him again, and I knew it.
I looked around again
at the rows of old magazines.
endless food boxes,
and the smell of decay.
And I did as he was told,
and rode the carpet.