We swore to banish lies, vowed slingshot truth.
With sober oaths to real boysenberry johnnycakes
and homemade cottage cheese,
we were stalwart advocates of authenticity.
We made nearsighted promises.
Neither of us noticed meany-mind hobgoblins
sprouting out of each straight forward,
well intended observation.
We beat each other half-to-death
with blunt verbiage.
We named it honesty
but an ugly duckling hatched,
truth is: critique kills sunflowers.
Od to the peevish pledge
to rational romance.
It turned us into tedious, fretful
chunking out love’s eulogy.