'auction' drabble
Here be a drabble born of nothing more than being chained in a garage sanding myself a viola and the wind blowing snow and dust into my face and my fingers freezing and my Stevie Nicks CD deciding to skip and drinking way too much tea this morning.
'auction',
100drabbles
.
The heart, auctioned to the highest bidder-
-some offer flowers that freeze on a day of snow.
-some offer the slickness of a leather couch in the dark.
-some offer chocolates too sweet for the embittered tongue.
-some offer conversation dulled by their idealistic day.
-and some, some offer the hope of happiness to come.
The highest bid is always hope, but what is it but that gold that turns to lead once held in the hand, presented with the lazy whisper of perhaps and taken away with an unapologetic smile?-yet the heart is always exchanged with joyful tears…
'auction',
100drabbles
.
The heart, auctioned to the highest bidder-
-some offer flowers that freeze on a day of snow.
-some offer the slickness of a leather couch in the dark.
-some offer chocolates too sweet for the embittered tongue.
-some offer conversation dulled by their idealistic day.
-and some, some offer the hope of happiness to come.
The highest bid is always hope, but what is it but that gold that turns to lead once held in the hand, presented with the lazy whisper of perhaps and taken away with an unapologetic smile?-yet the heart is always exchanged with joyful tears…