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Here's the stuff we found when you searched for "She flapped her arms like bird"

She ties regrets around her fingers like forget-me-knots
They walk around her like she is in danger of breaking
Would you like to penetrate her shell, insinuating yourself among the pages of the books she is reading?
I don't like her because she won't like me
She wears her failed relationships like a shield
Her sleeves ride up on her arms when she moves
You can play with my ex-girlfriend, but treat her like the lady that she is.
All the while he was talking she was thinking what his whiskers would feel like on the back of her neck
What's she gonna look like with a chimney on her?
She was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
waiting for his arms to fold like wings around her
how many bird nests would be made from her lovely hair
It clings to her like dedication in the rain
she left her handwriting all over the calendar
She must be what cocaine is like
It happened to everyone else; she swore it wouldn't to her
Her eyes were gray like a storm, and even more dangerous
She didn't wave goodbye so much as slightly raise her hand
When she was new, she rolled around the sky like a black umbrella blown by the wind
She Liked Horses, and Flowers That Smell Pink
you never once told her how beautiful she was nor how much you truly loved her
She was inside the music, with her eyes closed
serene. She sips her tea
Robert Lionel Fanthorpe fills up the word count in a science fiction novel: she brushed her teeth
Her self image was not the force field she imagined it to be
She disappeared as if he had only dreamed her
She Will Have Her Way: The Songs Of Tim & Neil Finn
In a quiet grove of pines under a frosty sky, he helped her out of the sack. She wore severe white hospital pajamas and was beautiful.
She was like a candle in the wind: unreliable
She tasted like whiskey and blood and cemetery dirt.
She is a night of dark trees, but he who is not afraid of her darkness will find banks full of roses under her cypresses
She is lobbing rainbows at me from across the room and I am swallowing them like fear.
She could run a spiel like nobody's business. She could sell the world and make you wish for more.
She is like an onion
She was a committed romantic and an anarcha-feminist. This was hard for her because it meant she couldn't blow up beautiful buildings.
She is so beautiful, I gave up Nihilism for her
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
sunset rainwater turns her sidewalk chalk-art into a sherbert delight; a surprise gift from chaos that tumbles her like tinkling bells onto the wet grass
Sometimes the apathy she saw made her want to curl up and cry
She found her bliss between the headphones, and pursed her lips.
i gave her my heart. she gave me a pen.
Some nights, alone, he thinks of her, and some nights, alone, she thinks of him
She is willing to attempt to retrieve the data. Go with her.
My friend is dating someone who likes him far more than he likes her
Take Her in Your Arms
That week with her was like drinking bubbles
A dose of mystery slipped into her cocktail while she was in the ladies' room
She asked me to copy my poem into her notebook
She doesn't look like Mother anymore
She was a Surrealist Woman, She was like a Figure in a Dream
she made them, like fire, expansible over all space
She tastes like gingerbread, too.
Spinning shapes like a song out of order. In the dark she can see fireflies.
like a tiger without her mountain
She just stares at us like we're crazy
She said I dreamed like dead men
her arms around me
She had incongruity for breakfast because she felt like it
She nicknamed her vagina "Crusty"
My heart is like a bird in the wounded night
She opened her eyes and spoke in a very normal voice, just as if she were sane
She flies with her own wings
She said, while hugging a bowl of turnips close to her bosom
She plugs her tears in the way you'd keep a dam from breaking
She grew a little older, while he was telling her
When she woke up, her hands were still dreaming
At night, her eyes closed, she would
She who leaves men as flaming wrecks in the ditch on the side of the road in her wake, yea, even submarines
The portion of her face she allows me to see
I come home, she lifted up her wings. I guess that this must be the place.
Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt
She was the prettiest, loveliest cat at the ball and she had upon her fine gilded whiskers.
Performing her communion with quick slashes up and down her arm
the way she wears her weary
I told her I could read her mind, but she didn't believe me. I could tell.
You put a hand on her hip, she permits it.
Susan Goldman, who has cervical cancer, is partly thankful as she braces herself but changes her mind as she's sprayed with burning jet fuel.
if you fear spells, look away when she decides to share her hair with the wind.
And she, with her beautiful words and such a fire burning inside
I feel like I don't know her for a moment. It passes.
She knows no truth except her own.
I would have attempted to draw her if she had stayed that way.
she lit her thumb on fire
she had already found her party
She really does want to clap along, but at the same time she doesn't want to let the bird get out.
For a lawyer she was surprisingly like a child. Sometimes.
She told me I looked like a Henry, and this is how she would know me
I would have liked thunder when she left
When that cow would walk it was like she was dancing
He stretched out his arms but she was not there
She always confused her greys with white.
She had fingernails that shined like justice
she gave herself that holocaust haircut. cinnamon colored clippings cover the motel bedspread like sprinkles.
She is like a kaleidoscope, a strange attractor, a superstition
She Came and Went Like Wind (A Selkie Story)
she can't remember what it's like to be found
She couldn't imagine that he liked dancing
She had eyes like the Blue Screen of Death
She didn't write like Emily Dickinson, but she did live in a house overlooking a cemetery, and I guess he thought that was important.
she likes to dance on the edge. it's all she's known and she won't change now
She writes like the wind moves
She doesn't like you
She hit me like thunder, and I had to lie down until I could breathe again
She felt like the word 'shatter'
She wore a bit more makeup than he generally liked
She keeps her lies everywhere
She thought about giving him her heart
Her perception of how gorgeous she is will be evident in her lack of movement during sex
I haven't seen her in a month. She is still beautiful.
Mr. Lunch liked to chase birds. In fact, he was a professional.
She does not rustle but her flesh has the moonlit shade of a silver birch
Her grief is still too young to behave itself, so she never lets it out
Tied up tight, like a bride on her wedding night
Fuck and please her like never before with the Stimulator!
The colors flow through her like a rainbow
She calls him Sugarcane. He calls her Hurricane.
She bruised her knee. This is how we met.
Her innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
He touched her once and she turned into a golden creature. He never touched her again.
She was never mine. I always shared her.
I don't tell her these things, and she doesn't ask
She sat in virginal white, eyes closed, with only her face in rose
She always was devious in her beauty
I ate her love like a nine-piece bucket of chicken
I don't think she even knows that I make her smile
Veronica loves manipulating her vagina until she explodes
does she need to touch her own face to know?
And her legs went on forever, like staring up at infinity
She does not take her trip. She does not shout out loud.
Even the moon likes to change her colors
I would like for you to make your arms for me the way you make your bed for you
She opened her eyes, looked at a world made entirely of white light
She Will Have Her Way
I got a girl in the war, Paul, her eyes are like champagne
She gets caught in the little world beneath her sheets
it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
she doesn't write, doesn't tell you stories, but somehow it's her words that spring to mind at those crucial, terrifying moments, and for that you are eternally grateful
She was so quiet that nobody heard her
why she makes her wishes at 7:07
She practices her speech
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
while she sleeps, i write myself into her life
When she sleeps, is she not moving her legs aside for an unknown garrison?
her ardent eyebrows are charcoal scimitars taut above eyes that breeze like open windows
knots and ribbons at the ends of her arms
I like it when I dream of her. It's the only time we get to talk.
When I look into her eyes, I no longer care about what the world thinks. This is what it feels like to be alive.
Because I still love her, because I know she still loves me.
I told her the driftwood looked like Spain
She picked herself up, wiping away at her dignity
A girl I know had her jaw wired shut, and she vomited.
She asked me to read her a poem
She, the Last Leviathan. She, the Station Agent. Chin on her Palm, she Watches Every Departure.
She Called in Her Soul to Come and See
She is the sea. Above her, he is thunder.
She is the queen of accidental magic. Her used kleenexes, taken by the wind, become soulful ghosts.
She crashed her car trying to avoid a butterfly
I gave her my heart, she tore it apart, and who gives a fart.
she gave her heart to a falling star
She asked me if I loved her and I showed her the tattoo
The Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne
She smokes. It wraps around her wrists and clings to her neck.
That was what her hunger was like: mesmerizing, directed, floating like a public secret just under the cloud cover.
When the Dancer Holds the Sun in Her Arms
She said her father died of cancer in the sixties
Gaily they went down in the lush field a treasure of valuables or specie or bullion lodged with a crust of bread into her coat of arms weaving currying the embroidering of silk in summer.
Trace a map along her arm
small arms
ARM Limited
Arms Akimbo
alligator arms
Least popular foods in the U.S. Armed Forces
armed to the teeth
the one armed man (user)
arm wrestling
Manual of Puissant Skill at Arms
The National Coat of Arms of Finland
The Bricklayer's Arms
Throw your arms out, fall on your face, and embrace failure
My arms ache for you

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