Remember Her?

She sat.
Her hair was perfect and I remember she had her legs crossed, her skirt pinched higher.
She had these glittering eyes that I could never forget.
They were green.
I remember when she stood, elongating her previously crumpled figure to her full 1.7 meter height.
Her fingers were long, with different coloured nails at the end of each finger. They wrapped around my shoulder, my hand, I remember how they felt, warm, soft, small calluses before every knuckle.
Her laugh tinkled through the air, the most luscious sound to accompany the most luscious music I can remember.
The way her hips moved, sashayed, skirt flipping around her thighs, her feet slipping forward and back in a fluid manner. Her arms danced above her head like waves.

And then she sat. And no one ever saw her beauty again.
Year after year. She remained. Legs crossed, skirt wrinkled.
And I always remembered how
she sat.