trash dove, bug shovel

the gambler had a song.
better we keep it close, he said.

yet when she sat by the sun,
and overheard his tune,
she began to sing along.

digging deep into the puddle,
they turned
and caught eyes and arrows/eros. 

he still can't get her out of his head.

I'd like to thank the silver dreams
for keeping me close to gold.