Currency exchange

When love lacks lustre…

She sat
Quite still
Amongst the used bus tickets
And fading supermarket receipts
Occasionally
A money-off coupon would wrap itself
Around her and whisper
We all expire
Some time
She has grown dull
And he whose warm hands once held
And cherished her
Is tossing a shiny new coin
Now and then he’ll fish her out
And contemplate her value
As a paperweight
Or a trolley token
That treasured moment
Under his blue eyed scrutiny
Is cut short
By the click of the purse
As she plunges back down
Into darkness

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