Committed to memory, traced and retraced
with my half shut eyes and
a sharpened pencil, in muted light

I recall every inch with clarity

the way her toes, painted burgundy
to match the wine
slid into sandals
pushed against the carpet

The long slope of her back
twin points above smooth valley
how it arched
leading my eyes and hands downward
silent prompting

How do I remember all this?
Ask the birds how they know when to fly south

title from Jeanette Winterson

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