If

I emerged from him
believing I could walk on fire.
No bruises, no blood.
I stood alone,
afraid the world would come.

If I touch him, will I break?
If I kiss him, will I feel?
If I love him, will I exist?

It is ironic
the folds of his skin
the glow of his eyes.
His hands touch me softly
running along the tracks of my skin.

If I want him, will I break?
If I lust him, will I feel?
If I need him, will I exist?

He emerged from me
believing I was gone.
Still bruised, still scarred.
He stood alone,
fearful of our world gone.

If he remembers me, will I break?
If he calls to me, will I hear?
If he reaches me, will I grab hold?