The Address of Return

How much was inevitable in our growing distance?
As much care as you took to tend my deepest wounds.

How much shelter will you offer in your chest?
As unprepared as you are when you touch me.

Could you leave me behind?
But then your very existence would be in crisis—I don't want that.

How clearly is it my face alone on the walls of your thoughts?
As fragile as loving me has made you.

Why are you so cruel?
In your breath, your touch…
The more my claim on you grows—
The more you fear returning to what's real.

Then is departure the better choice?
When emotion runs short—
Even memories are dishonored.