That line

I love the line that brushes down her neck,
then curves around her shoulder
and strays along her side.

I love the way it turns in at her waist;
not quite as much as it did once,
but still enough...

and how it glides round hip and thigh
and skirts her knee and skims on down,
then curls around her feet and toes
and wanders up, and round again.

This poem shows I love that line:
I'm getting dizzy trying to trace it...