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.