How do I choose to be honouring?
As a friend, as a woman, as a human?
How do I know what (not) to say?
How do I know how far to go?
You expect me to talk about love
But that concept is lost
In this honour-less world.
You expect me to talk about lust?
I’ve yet to experience that spray painted pearl.
This day of love, passed like a day of
Just simply time, life, me, my view, my life
I’m not saddened, I’m not waiting for that process to change
You expect me to speak of desire or hope
I choose to widen the scope
To the question of – what does it mean to be honouring?
Am I an honourable, woman, human, friend?
Can I honour the prospective potential of the multiplicity of love
When it comes in various forms to knock at my door?
Is there such thing as honouring amour?