I Could Tell You a Story

that would fill your eyes with
condensation. You would drop
your head. Your chin sitting on your neck,
almost a bow of respect for what I went
through.
But I wouldn’t do that to you.

I could tell you a story
that would have your fingers scrunched
tightly in a ball, with your nails digging
themselves in your palm. That would have your
hair stand to attention on your arm.
But I wouldn’t do that to you.

I could tell you a story
that would make you think about people
you thought you knew. That would have your head
going around in circles. That would leave you
shaking and perspiring as if you had the flu. I would
even include me in the story.
But I wouldn’t do that to you.