There is an elegant vulnerability in shoulders. The way they curve slowly down from the neck to the arms, conveying with every shift and shrug and involuntary sob-spasm what the face couldn’t quite get out. I think we take someone by the shoulders when we want to talk to them directly, or when we want to comfort them deeply, because shoulders listen too. They listen better than our ears to the silent warnings, encouragements and invitations our hands can communicate. That is why I love shoulders in general. My reasons for loving Anna’s are too intimate for discussion here. Suffice it to say that there are many.
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