She was brilliance, a rare currency
the entitled would use, but
like all coins, eventually her
value decreased. She became tarnished
from years of being shoved deep
inside pockets, spent in order to fix
problems and save days. Toned up.
Brilliant colours flashed in the sun,
dropping bait while the sharks
gambled her worth. She spun,
flipped, twisted, and twirled high
in the air. Heads you own,
tails you’re owned, and discarded,
a slipped tip on a slow night.

© Nicole Lyons 2016