My face flashes from grimacing to batting lashes,
from hope to fear, from please to thanks,
to challenging, to I
Vulnerability is the Russian roulette,
am the lottery-
each muscle of my face a slot initiating,
reacting. My cocked head connects,
eyebrows mirror, lips probe,
and I ask, and I try, and I give, and I take, and- Do you
Will you keep me safe?
I don’t know,
so I stack the deck, though,
hooked by the hand that you dealt me once,
I flash my eyes,
let you hold my shifting gaze,
and I always bet.