Poker Face

We stare each other down;
each waiting for the other to fold.

You play your cards like a pro.
Or at least I'll let you think so.

You stay unreadable
while I attempt to call your bluff.

A flirtatious remark,
and a heated glance to fluster you
and throw you off kilter.

No dice.
You deflect.
How strange that you did not
succumb to my charms,
unlike every man I've ever met.

I raise.

Your ways are more telling
than the cards you think you are playing.

I'm no fool.
I know the hand you play close to your chest
is shitty at best.

Give up?

The fact that you measure
every word
and every action
with careful precision,
as to not give yourself away
tells me everything I need to know.

I'm all in.

I've found your tell.

I call your bluff.

Time to fold.

Visceral

It's like they can smell it.

As I go about my day,
enflamed with primal desire
I feel the eyes of strangers
upon me.

I walked past
and their gaze follows.
My pheromones exuding lust,
men become bold.

Never mind the ring upon my finger.
Something more visceral is at work here.