Jackpot
The day that you won me,
I recall how you spoke of lotteries and luck,
And sang in blue and white,
From virtual rooftops with borrowed words,
About fields and fish and feeling good,
I still cherish that grotty piece of paper,
Alive like the tree it was sliced from,
With secrets spelt out with my name,
Copied them with a crumbling pencil scrawl,
Onto the secret space beneath my window,
Bathed in sulphur light,
Between dreams I would read them,
Filled with frustration that you couldn’t seem to see,
Chance was never the game,
Harbinger broke into delicate run,
And delivered the inevitable,
Led down the only path left to follow,
I could only ever fall for you.
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