Hands played on the table,
And a hand splayed on her chest.
A poker face but for a price;
Your chips stack higher than the rest.
See the lechers with the call girls,
Crouching under tables.
Prolonged leers and stretching wallets;
Dirty urban fables.
Cards are called and faces pale,
Groping for a matching pair.
Breaths are ragged, kisses rough;
Groping at her underwear.
Failing, flummoxed, folding;
Your matches are unyielding.
Gasping, orthodox, skin-crawling;
An ending without feeling.