Write me in patterns,
In Rhythms of yellow song.
Color me in lines long
Lilting delicately drawn.
For I hardly exist in you.
Pulling me into safety strong.
Before I thought I was carved in stone.
Chipped wrong
Covered in moss, cracked alone.

But now I am not silent or still.
And I don’t need to look in your eyes
To live and be in heaven.
No need for moonlight or perfumed sighs.
Just be.
And this statue shall move with something
Free.