Don’t Let Me Be
Don’t let me be just –
just a stick whittled and trimmed
into a disfigured twig.
Be just instead; look fairly and far
and further into me.
Don’t let me be –
be ‘tween too soft, yet hardly soft.
Let me rather be thickened, be fed
become another mother to my self.
Don’t let me –
let me split and splinter, like
an earthquake fissure, all break and no bone.
Don’t let –
let me stop you from smoothing all the
coarse and cracked curves of me.
Don’t,
don’t let me be.