Metaphors

I'm a chunk of sugar granules chipped apart
Always sweet, but never smooth. The grains
Whose sheer tactility is but a part
Of their totality, here only stand
For that; although of course their taste remains
Central to the figure. How they band
Together in their molecules to make
A larger substance; how they scatter to
The wind if, by some mischance, that should break;
How they are separate when not clumped: these do
Not figure, for I stand in for the whole;
One me, and many grains - this is ignored.
Instead the broken clump stands for my soul
And I choose how that meaning will be stored.