Write a poem about something that returns
we take for granted
the people who return home
to us every night
because one day they won’t
they’ll find someone else
or find themselves
or find what
they’ve been searching for
and it won’t be you
they won’t love you enough
to put with up the nagging
the sexless life
the chore of keeping a marriage together
when it’d be just as much work
and just as fulfilling to live alone
surrounded by quiet walls
but just like grass
and flowers
and bees
and birds return out of habit
so do they
dirty, tired, glued to their device,
happy to stare at a screen
instead of your face
because yours is a reminder
of what they gave up
to be your tattoo
your wedlock
your ball and chain
but they keep coming back
maybe out of hopelessness
maybe out of love
you’d never know
they don’t say much.
