Her eyes look greenest when they are
    looking down from above me
in a sultry, cow-girl style;
Yet her mind seems weakest
  during the night-time.

Her hair is longest when
   it is twined between my fingers,
her body against mine;
And her hands seems gentlest
  when they are tap-tap-tapping against
the window--
  waiting for the car that will never come.

Her body is the most graceful when
dancing
softly, as if afraid to be caught;
   all contour lines in a dress of cotton;
and her heart is most fragile
    while held in my hands
       my fingers, a loosely fitted cage.