99: the eight of spades, scorched through the center.
44: gold leaves lit on sigh breath red tinged gnat.
55: the eight of clubs and bass throbs gun metal blue
22: a sharp green that will knife through
your gastrointestinal tract like a finger
thrust into butter to its knuckle when it crosses
your nose.
11: snake eyes are never without negative space
surround and feel a tongue go dry like
tissue paper kissed haphazard,
stuck to skin.
999: adventure boiled
to tar. Smeared. Pigeon. Blood.
Glisten bone shard peek through.
Thank God for jeans.
