::
Evening the score
the playing field
our un-fisted, twisted hands
,
we stand in awe of sky
of star-sparked why
of poker-faced moon.
In the end, odds are, we’re even.
::
::
Evening the score
the playing field
our un-fisted, twisted hands
,
we stand in awe of sky
of star-sparked why
of poker-faced moon.
In the end, odds are, we’re even.
::
❤
Thanks, Chica.