Smooth the sharp square of my shoulder to a curve that fits your head. I will bend the lines of my lips to fit your pink and pouting mouth. The straight line of my arms will cradle you. I will weave my lines around you.
Coax the sharpness of my tongue to gentle lovesongs; curl my fingers around yours; smooth the lines from my brow into smiling.
I never knew there could be strength in a curve. Thought only that rigidity might snap under pressure, not mould to fit the change.