Shapes

I don’t want to cut myself into shapes that please you. 
I don’t want to blame you for your preferences either. 
For what feels familiar and comfortable to you.

Can I keep my edges while letting go of rigid lines? 
Can my shape dance with yours?
Making room for what could be ours?

I think my shape is more complex than what I first thought. 
I think your embrace is softer than I first knew. 

Who am I to declare that this adventure with you should never change me? 
Move me?

Maybe my shape only grows more beautiful with you. 
Sometimes with a painful cut. 
Sometimes with a languid ripple.

I don’t think I was ever meant to stay the same. 

I choose to live, hurt, explore, find out. 
I choose you.