Cross your heart and hope to
tie me to the bed before
I call my sister for a ride.
I tried to pay you back tonight,
to say I'm sorry for the blackened
salmon that your stomach couldn't handle,
but I only managed "Look
at all the ways we stayed in love."

Because sure,
I trust you.

I trust you like I trust the
fridge-reach condiments
I smear onto my plate
before I find the time to read
the expiration date and part
with what will only hurt me more.