I Want to Be Known

I do not want to be beautiful.

I want to be known.

Known in the way that matters to me.

Like the way the sea embeds itself on the shore, moving the sand with its tide.

Like the way the wind whistles as it weaves between the leaves of the forest.

Like the way the sky shifts and changes, illuminating those living below.

I do not want someone to memorise the colour of my eyes, but to cherish that which my eyes see.

I do not want someone to memorise the harmonies of my voice, but to cherish what my voice speaks of.

I do not want someone to memorise the way my lips curl when I smile, but to cherish the things that make my lips curl.

I want someone to remember my favourite flower, my favourite food, my favourite movies.

I want someone to love the things that make me laugh, make me sing, make me dance.

I want someone to know what makes me scared, what makes me sad, what makes me angry.

To have someone caress my being with every word they say.

To have someone sing my presence into every action they make.

To have someone take in my essence with each breath they take.

I do not want to be beautiful.

I want to be known.