the way her features go soft before a kiss from a long-awaited lover
the soft insides of her forearm, the whiteness of her skin, as she loads the washing machine
the curve of her neck, the slant of her collarbone, the slope of her cheek as it meets her mouth
the way she brushes her hair out of her face on a windy summer day
her voice as she sings in the shower
the way her fingers curve around a pen as she writes a cheque
the tilt of her chin as she watches a seagull in flight
the movement of her lips as she eats strawberries
the wrinkle in her tights, across the instep, when she takes her shoes off
her smile when she passes herself in the mirror
the movement of her leg as she lowers the kick stand of a bike
the furrow in her brow when the receives news of a death
the way she slips a book into her purse before getting off the bus
the way she touches her hair when she envies another woman's beauty
her sigh during lovemaking
her annoyance in an argument over whose turn it is for the first shower
the way her body clings to a lover who is about to leave