her toes.
calloused from dance shoes and broken.
broken from raising herself up on them to reach for standards.
standards placed in the sky, by her parents.
standards of which she always seemed to fall short of.

her toes and on to her feet, which are swift like the wind as they run.
run from situations at the first sign of trouble.

up further to her legs.
legs smooth and long like piano keys, halfway up rests her knees.
knees that bend as her
hips swing and move, and twist like a blender
as the music grows loud and the lights get dimmer.

upwards more to her waist ill rise
here hosts prints from where these hands used to lie
i'll climb her ribs to a chest that cages a heart that beats a tune
a tune that I like but no none of the words to.   

arms that stretch far and wrap wide
like gift paper around the present
which is her letting me inside....
of those arms
body against mine...thoughts moving fast but slow goes the time.

her shoulders
so strong and worn
worn from carrying the weight of the problems
many which aren’t even her own.

her neck is a ‘bridge’ that takes me from her body to her mind
a trip there and you’ll be surprised by the things that you’ll find

but first lips
lips and a tongue that knows tricks that all magicians envy
her mouth imprisons words
both harsh and sweet and the prisoners escape plenty.

her teeth
they dig into her bottom lip when turned on
and pierce the insides of her cheeks from habit
but back to lip,
when she bit it i just knew I had to have it.

a nose that could smell a lie from a mile away.

her eyes shine bright
bright as the sky
on a sunny day thats so luminous the clouds cowered on this day
they were afraid to show themselves
these eyes are like windows,
she’s sees out and i try to see right back inside
but cant,
all i see is the reflection of another set as she looks into mine
they’re so big with such clarity
from the tears that have washed across them like Windex
she’s a strong girl who holds her tears hostage
but when they cant take it anymore they commit suicide
they jump from those eyes
but never when anyone is around to bear witness to the tragedy.

she has a wrinkle in her forehead and brow from all of this lifes confusion, some of which came from me

her hair flows long and smooth like brown silk
with a smell, such a smell...it reaked of a smell
that tells me her shampoo was made specifically based on the preferences of my nose
it all encaged a mind
a mind that was so different but went so well with mine 
packed with a dangerous combination of intelligence and perspective thats real hard to find
 

and this is all just from the very first time
first time, that your path crossed mine.