If the city were burning, I wouldn’t pack a single bag.

Instead, I would run to you and make home in your chest, nestled
directly next to your heart so I could hum along to the tune of its beating. I would 
take shelter beneath your ribcage, burrowed under bones I never thought
could break. I would give you my oxygen, just so your lungs would have to pump
a little less.

If the city were burning, I would flee to where I felt safe.