cards fall around me from my life's dream-like sky-eye camera angle
royals and aces and numbers lit up by the shining blue sky behind and above
the king of clubs keeps appearing
float-falling, slow-mo
rotating and showing his red-and-white back
what's it all mean the poet asks the king
the king smiles, stoic and silent
reflecting upside-down
holding his swords still, frozen
to the left, his red enemy holds suicidal swords in his ears
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