the devil and I rolled dice in a dive-bar
thirty thousand feet above the ground
I wondered while the clouds swam past
if the creators got it wrong
that when the mastermind above the sky
was rolling his million sided dies
he kept ending up with snake eyes
I keep ending up with fives
we took shots of milk and vodka
and he steepled his hands together like the characters playing him in cartoons often do
gave me useless life advice like my father used to
we watched a few aircrafts fly by in silence, playing our little games of chance in the deafening quiet
after the final roll it was clear that I had lost
which I should have expected, really, considering
he didn't look as happy as I thought he would with winning
just deeply, inexplicably tired
he let me stay on the cloud with him for a while longer
and I nursed my white russian as I looked downwards
at the earth
which, very slowly
started to catch light
and burn
