Terror and Trust (B Side Version)

If today was a coin I’d spend it on bread in a market stall To break by the river with butter and salt You’d tear me a piece with your fingers and tell me That flour and water and yeast Conspired to build a cathedral inside of a crust Isn’t that just like you looking for God in a boule? If his face was a map she’d bend it to see if the lashes lead To treasure that’s buried northwest of a cheek He winks and the crease in the coordinates tells her Wander his dimples like creeks They all empty into the Ocean of Terror and Trust Or would you rather get lost in the mysterious woods of his chin? If our past is a stone let’s skip it and let our words wash ashore Like pearls in a net at the back of our throats I choked on my poetry’s efforts to tell you But somebody yells in the crowd “Make the spring tide at La Jolla in a bucket of rust” It’s funny how some things I’ve said find their way back to your mouth So long after I’ve cried them out