And you roll it - a die
Of many sharp colours; nine sides, inexplicit,
Each shade of a spectrum.

 

Count them with me, cast your
Hand in the fray. Hope to grasp more
Than the lotto allows.

 

O​ne is a beauty,

Two is a curse,

​Three is the crowd no sin could endorse.

​Four casts a shadow,

​Five casts a shout,

​Six pulls our bodies from words borne of doubt.

​Seven breeds kindness and

​Eight breeds us hate, but

Ni​ne gifts us love, contentment and fate.

 

Lower your hand and feel through the Lotto.
Search by the bodies, pick up
And swallow.