Tell Me

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Tell me about the word ‘trust’.
Does it rapidly dissolve
on the back of your tongue?
Does its bitterness burn
in the hollow of your cheeks?
Tell me, would a glass of water
help to wash it down?

And if you give it time,
will it silence the pounding
in your head, ease the pain
that settles itself like a
snoring bear between
your shoulder blades?
Do you think before long,
you might sleep through
the night once again?

Tell me about the word ‘trust’.
Is it potent enough to need
a prescription, a physician?
Can you buy it in a back alley?
Can you grow it in your
basement from tiny,
sticky seeds of doubt?

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