The way her feet sway beneath her

Her feet, pale and veiny and plump with the color of her blood

The wrinkling of the skin on her knee as she moves it back and forth, back and forth

Hair trails down her legs like a river, ever flowing and dark and beautiful 

Her shorts flutter in the wind, it’s cold outside

The goosebumps that litter her arms are her only weakness, the only sign that she’s human.

She sits in a way I never could, so relaxed, so slouched, so at ease 

I wish I could sit like her

Her shirt billows up around her, it’s always too big

It threatens to take her whole, but she doesn’t mind

She never does

Her hair sways with the rhythm of the wind chimes on the neighbors porch, curly and unbrushed and enchanting

She has always had that power, to pull people in, to be so alluring, to be so interesting doing nothing at all

She can take something and make it charming, she can do something and make it popular, she can talk and grab the attention of anyone by the throat

She is everything all at once, and everything that anyone would ever want to be