The Spaces Between Her Fingers

One hand rises towards her breast, the fingers opening with such delicacy that the spaces between them seem as carefully made as the fingers themselves. The other follows the curve of her waist, its fingertips resting against the worn ornament. Above them, her face holds the faint possibility of a smile, but gives nothing away. The eye moves between the two gestures, as though something might pass from one to the other. Yet what holds our attention is smaller, and more difficult to name: the little intervals between the raised fingers; the closeness of those below, where hand and ornament begin to lose their separate edges. Nothing moves. And still, how lightly that lower hand seems to rest, stone upon stone.