Pantoum of Edges

My love is not for sharpened lines
or edges that the shadows trace.
No angle, limiting, defines
the contours warm in my embrace.

For edges that the shadows trace
can make for bold and bright designs--
but contours warm in my embrace
are worshipped in far softer shrines

in which the bold and bright designs
are lost to gentle, curving grace.
I worship in those softer shrines
where tenderness is commonplace,

lost in gentle, curving grace.
Our separate shadows intertwine
where tenderness is commonplace--
my love is not for sharpened lines.