An Angle Out Of Touch

I’m right behind an angle,

Kept just out of view.

Colors always visit,

But as for friends, just a few.

I really like this rest

In the crescent of two lines.

73 degrees,

Perfect to unwind.

Melody has shades,

Shades have frequency.

Thoughts have shape,

Shape has certainty.

I’m frequently certain of the colours in shape,

It’s certainly frequent that melodies keep safe.