Be safe.

Raise less than usual amid these fraught fixtures--

These forlorn and needy faces--

Raise so little

That the necessity of it might too

Avail so little--

And throw down your shields,

Filed shivs. Such

Lanky giving arms, they will die before

Even once trying to stop holding onto you.

Even now a prism erupts;

This is the hearth of your arms.

Go now.

Be more gentle than necessity commands you to be.