Sometimes, it’s just the way you tilt your head,
When something’s caught in what I said;
Sometimes, it’s just your lips.

Sometimes, it is your tired hand let fall,
When you have written, got it all;
Sometimes, it’s when you sleep.

Sometimes, it’s when you hold a glass
And wink with your own brand of sass;
Sometimes, it’s just your hand.

Sometimes, it’s just your one word, “No,”
If someone tells you how to go;
Sometimes, it’s just your eyes.

Sometimes, it’s the way you move,
That each glad motion does approve;
Sometimes, it is your hair,
Motionless, waiting there.

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