Revision #3:Original Draft

(This is an old piece)

Sister Willows

You each, can alone, touch me and through that

give me clear veins for thought to travel through.

On a floor, or on a bed, of leaves, I will trust you;

hang my armor upon your willow tree branches.

But together you are a forest, a dark place.

A canopy I cannot see within, but still must cross.

So I eat metal, grind copper and steel with broken teeth

[and bleeding] gums and grind my skin upon the stone until my soul is sharp.

So that I can pierce you, break you, each of you, only a piece though, to carve a space,

for myself; through which I am protected from your united touch.

For there are times when it, your touch, sends phoenix-fire through those veins [and they burn through tearing and snapping] them--

spilling unsegregated blood into regions that cannot bear its burden,

cannot force it through the system.

And I am left in a place that reminds me of thorns; reminds-- me of dry

half- living things that refuse to die.

Things I should far transcend and remain unaffected by. 

For I will see you, tomorrow, each of you, and chose to have to let you touch me.

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Revised Draft
I would have like to keep couplets 4-8 the same size as 1-3, but I cannot seem to find to do it in a desirable way.  For the last should I find a way to make it two lines as all the others or is it good to end it with a singular line?

Sister Willows

You each, can alone, touch me and through that
Give me clear veins for thought to travel through.

On a floor, or on a bed, of leaves, I will trust you
Hang my armor upon your willow tree branches.

But together you are a forest, a dark place.
A canopy I cannot see within, but still must cross.


So I eat metal, grind copper and steel with broken teeth and
Bleeding gums, grind my skin upon the stone until my soul is sharp.

So that I can pierce you, break you, each of you, only a piece though, 
To carve a space for myself. Through which I am protected from your united touch.


For there are times when it, your touch, sends phoenix-fire through those veins.
And they burn through tearing and snapping them.

Spilling unsegregated blood into regions that cannot bear its burden,
Cannot force it through the  system.

And I am left in a place that reminds me of thorns, reminds me of dry,
half- living things that refuse to die.

For I will see you, tomorrow, each of you and chose to have to let you touch me.