Your suit transformed

Then swords were spades, so civilized.
Instead of stab, you bury them. 

So wands and staves became as clubs, 
to call with sirens. Dance begin! 

We lost the glory for such drudge. 
We dug our holes to sleep therein. We lost 

The magic for such dull and bludgeon
clubs, accepting us
for sake of sin.
We lost 

So much,
as coins to diamonds turned. Now,
there's a stretch! The hardest rock
in worlds, so many faces cut - just pull
a ducat from your pocket, now. Just
flip a coin, 

Well, heads says think and tails says fuck
- by such low arts we lost our heads,
when we confused 

Our hearts with cups.
We can show hands
the table 'round, or fold
in prayer, but we can't read

Our own slick palms. In faces we
find too few tells to dare. As tics fail,
too. We fold, as bleating lambs. 
Compel us anywhere, we've
read the signs. Between the lines
of shielding hands - our fingers
misaligned. O! Destination anywhere. 
We call it fate, and fall behind.  

Let's tell it true.
The glory lost in stab 
was no real loss.

Just mine. 

Just jumping gun 
on way to hole
that lies, awaiting 
all. Betimes, as times
betide, we take the call. 
The worms will have their joke 
upon dear soul. Or cheat
them, let's!

We'll pack ourselves decked out
in suits, in box, in fiery kiln.
It fits! We do. We reduce withal
to uncountable mass of dust
and ash. A few pieces
left to rue.

Does it need a thrust?

Not really, such dull spadework 
comes fast, and whatever
remains has passed. 

It's not need that lacks, 
or want, just must. 

And the wands were props, 
and so were the staves. We'd trudge
leaning hard, in martial airs
with passing arts, making points
or passes significantly, but just. 
Turning take to trick, turning
test to pass, turning ask
to tell, or self to ass.
Indifferently done,
I'd say. 

And coins have meanings,
as diamonds do. And it all
adds up, but nothing lasts.
It's as if we've lost nothing.
It's all as one, today.

In all of this we have gained
our hearts. Now let's raise our
cups! Don't ask 

For who (or whom)
The bill tolls.

This cup's on you,
you recall. We have
already flipped the coin.
And you called heads, as
you do. You always do. My round 

Comes next! Take it easy, let's.  
Keep our wits this time! 
We go better that way,
however we go
right through.  

Your place, or ours. A few
rounds, or two. So fine. Our suits 
are resplendent as they are pressed
and worn. They and the stars
shall be transformed. 

We always do.

It isn't a change of self. Just skin
and form. Second nature or third?
Such lush thread count and cut
we've lost in this cause we
are so lost in. So found, as well.

It's as thin and full as any a swell
upon any sea. It waxes and wanes,
It has come to be, and gone.
And it washed us up
on top of ourselves. 

We have gone so well and good.
If I am your jackanapes, you're a queen.
And if we are flush, let's bust this strait.
We could. For if you are my heart, 
I have tails for thee.

Plus clubs and swords and spades
for whoever stands opposed to we.

This fate

or the next, resplendent in suits,
in or out of our dress,
our house so full,

We shall be. Venture forth
and jump back, and kiss
such selves we are, 
such mutually fools. 

As the bells come toll, I will fold
in the face of your tell.You'll see.

That hand running ace two
three four ace. What a busted straight!
But one hell of a pair to hand. 
To bluff, or a suit to make all
in. Fits just so. Cock an eye
for the tape, and an ear for
what could be bespoke.

Take a needle in time, and win! 
It's a kind of a sword, poke a kind of
bendy stave (or rope) at its eye, 
thread a line in and tie it through.
We begin to resume what has gone 
a long time by now, in our loom. 

We can suit ourselves well 
these ways. By such arts, clothed 
optionally at least and best, at odds
we can stake and raise our bets
'til the pot is free. So equally right
we evenly try.

And oddly guess. 

Can we tell our futures by fall
of cards? Hey, I'll take your hand 
if you'll take mine, we are blest.
Whatever they've got for us, it
cannot be so high and hard
so true so good and on guard

So beautiful

As how we found ours in this
hullabaloo.

Let's show.
Let's tell. 

I see DEATH at the end. And two fools 
deep in cups drinking hearts in clubs 
for free. Wtf it's you! 

And I think that's me.

Let's predict! Oh, gwan
let's see.