From Bottom to Top

There was just something about them.

The ways her knees touched when she was standing still. Graceful. Aware of the needed distance between them. Lightly kissing each other.

How they bent when she was wrapped up in a comforter, early in the morning, amongst the haze that still lingered in her brain, contorted and twisted on the bed. Still able to look elegant.

The way a dress could fall over them, cover them - but only enhance them. Make you focus on them more. Their shape. Their length. Their color. Even when hidden, they were as lovely as ever.

How her toes curled around the straps of a sandal - holding on but more than ready to be out in the fresh air. To announce their presence to the world. Proud to be out.

Soft - like warm silk. Their heat attracted you. Pulled you closer - to touch them. Get the chance to feel them. Graze them.

He loved the freckles that dotted them, like some young child had flipped to a new page of connect the dots, but walked away before ever starting. Spread out with no discernible pattern. It gave them character - her character. It reminded him how perfect imperfection was.

Each little scar was unique. A brief moment of past pain that now brought a smile to his face. He had learned where each one was - how it felt. They were his road map.

These were the little details that made life better.