Don’t Preserved Me

like I’m a jar of jelly, jam or vegetables
sealed in a can. Don’t want to be a trophy on the shelf,
collecting dust along with everything else. I’m not
that expensive dress you wear on a special occasion,

then return to the store because it costs
a fortune. Maybe this sounds incredulous to you,
but I want to be used. Not gazed at or admired
from afar, like I’m a planet orbiting a star. Run over me

like I’m grass. Don’t worry if I get flat. Jump
into me like a puddle. Don’t worry you’ll get
your shoes wet. You can take them off later and dry them
on the radiator. Don’t treat me like I’m delicate

or fragile. There’s no sign on me
that reads “Do Not Handle” Please squeeze me
like I’m a tube of toothpaste. Roll me up and push
the last bit out until I foam in your mouth!