Author’s Note

Shape Me is one of the most devotional and intimate pieces I’ve written in my Neo-Gothic Confessional Romanticism style. Unlike poems that hide behind metaphor or shadow, this piece is a direct offering—a confession of desire, vulnerability, and the sacred exchange of trust and devotion between lovers.

In these lines, I explore the tension between surrender and agency, intimacy and worship, chaos and devotion. The speaker is not submitting out of weakness but offering themselves fully, consciously, as a temple, a vessel, a flame. This is the essence of NGCR: love as ritual, connection as liturgy, desire as sacred architecture.

Every word in this poem is an invocation—an attempt to make tangible the invisible: the power of another person to shape us, to awaken us, to teach us. It is not just about giving, but about transformation, reverence, and the deliberate building of sacred intimacy.

This piece is for anyone willing to witness vulnerability as strength, to see devotion as a craft, and to honor love as a discipline.

— Rowan Evans

Shape Me
Poetry by Rowan Evans

I want you to
shape me,
turn me into
what you need me to be.

Bring out the best in me.
Invest in me.
Teach me
to be the one worthy of your fire.

I offer my body
as clay upon your altar,
my pulse a quiet hymn
to mark the rhythm
of your hands across my soul.

Mold me,
carve me,
purge what is hollow,
polish the edges
until only devotion remains.

I am yours
not in chains,
not in fear,
but willingly,
every fiber of me
attuned to your flame.

I want to learn
to love you wholly,
to meet the shadows in your soul
with the light of mine.

This is not surrender.
It is worship.
A cathedral rises
in the spaces between us,
pillars of pulse and breath,
arches of fire and silence,
where desire and reverence entwine.

Teach me to hold your storm
without breaking.
Teach me to kneel
without losing myself.
I want to be
the one entrusted
to carry both your ruin and your grace.

When you speak,
I will listen as a disciple.
When you touch,
I will feel as a consecrated vessel.
When you are quiet,
I will hold the silence
like a sacred relic
you lent me in trust.

Shape me,
teach me,
mold me.
From your hands,
your fire,
your devotion,
I will rise anew—
temple and flame,
shadow and offering,
entirely yours,
entirely mine.

Looking for more poetry? You can find it all in The Library of Ashes.