A Pink Honesty

In our exchanges, she and I would mete out
what honesty meant
and how honest we could be
and how we liked our honesty served up to us….


A Pink Honesty
I took her by
The hand and asked,
If in this moment,
I could be just
With her?
Your honesty
Is not a deep, dark red.
As I prefer it pink,
She said.
And if it is,
by all means,
And so,
I asked,
If what she meant
By honesty
Were words
Served up
Lightly seared,
Yet rare that red would e’er
be seen,
And rare that it be served.
She fanned
And rose,
Swelling up in red,
And whispered
In my ear,
Sir, please.
And after that
I sof’ly
served her only pink
in all of our exchanges.

Randy Mazie

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