She uses the word “honey”

As easily as he spends his money

On pretty birds whose words

Are meaningful as ads seen at night

On boards offering the delight

Of ice cream dreams that melt away

Into the mundanity of day

Looking at her mobile

She smiles her painted smile,

And says, “that was fun.

Now I must run”.

Then, not forgetting her money

She leaves her honey

Who, as heels fade away

Thinks, we both pay,

Each in our own way .