You deserve gratitude
for removing the dust
of the last eighteen months.

I should be thanking you,
shaking your hand
like a pendulum clock.

But it hurts,
this burn you’ve given me.
You leave me

running it under the tap,
to deal with the scar and get to the part
where I understand.

It’s a relief,
I promise,
to have a label

to fix
to this thing
pickling in my veins.

Your stethoscope gives testimony
in court –
the truth slaps me

like wet feet against tile.
I am defeated,
shocked –

but thank you for giving it a name.