7 Card Stud

You stretch and yawn.
You say you're tired of this,
but you can't stop now,
it's not in your nature to stop.
She can't breathe anymore.
And as her spirit rips from her body,
it takes her heart along-
both crashing to the ground
as the gravity of your presence obliterates them.
She broke the rules by trying to escape.
But there is no pain.
She is firewood burning,
once oaken and now lifeless.
There are no cries of pain,
only the crackling of her bones as you make one last bet.
You ease back for a split second and she's restored,
even more engrossed in you than before.
You gain back her trust simply by making eye contact,
make her think there will be hope,
then turn on her again.
It's all a game to you and she will never win.
You have no eyes, no heart, no soul,
but you're always the champion.
You're the rulemaker.
But something's different this time.
She has a glow about her.
You panic.
The cards you're holding are useless.
She can see it in your face.
Oh Infatuation,
I'm calling your bluff.