Honesty Calls Collect

By Becca Samad


If we collected all the diffuse gases of all the honest people in the world, they would condense into a single glass of something less honest than water.


After wading through the liquid people of tenuous tendencies, bubble back to me before breathing the secret of purity, please, if you find it there, because honesty is honestly deceptive.


To begin, give up your ties to any psychological study that claims your ruddy brown eyes merely reflect crazy.


Unravel the knots you’ve tied in my stomach, shoulders, back, and hair matting like blood clots impatient to check into hospital inpatient where nurses bandage limp arguments and doctors aren’t complacent.


To exercise your sincerity, look at me while untying your hands before those of your neighbor, lover, child, significant other.


Or don’t even bother because if we play with this fire any longer we’ll likely burn right through the cords that satisfy my cravings for struggle and I’d like to reuse my bruises one day.


And they’re unlikely to respond promptly to our flames barking up trees since most of the wolves around here have already been cried.


So I suppose contracting the natural world to convince me that my reflection defies natural selection was clever of you.

Tricky, too.


Now I pause this rummage sale plundering and the water runs clearer, my wondering a little less clamorous.


And a little more morally ambiguous…A range from none to one or five to four are fine, the mirror flips us round the same way and so I’ll note with finality that, for insincerity, truth is to blame.


Contrast my first line with my last and then tell me again that people don’t change.

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