His legs are gangled meter sticks, flexing occasionally at the knee, swiveling in the rack and pinion of his pelvis and incapsulated by worsted wool finished with soft sole wing tips… taking two stairs at a time his stride pushes the lines away She shivers in hose and mutters, “Damned skirt has no kick pleat” to extend the spread of her legs, And slip on mules are not designed for going down stairs, or quick paces, her clothes expect delicacy she ignores, curling her toes taking smaller steps with more RPM- catches the train despite extra lines of limitations