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Here's the stuff we found when you searched for "She twisted her hands behind her"

She didn't wave goodbye so much as slightly raise her hand
You put a hand on her hip, she permits it.
When she woke up, her hands were still dreaming
She opened her eyes, looked at a world made entirely of white light
She was never mine. I always shared her.
She asked me if I loved her and I showed her the tattoo
Only her hands would give her away
Her perception of how gorgeous she is will be evident in her lack of movement during sex
if you fear spells, look away when she decides to share her hair with the wind.
She was inside the music, with her eyes closed
Her hand on my heart
She practices her speech
A girl I know had her jaw wired shut, and she vomited.
Veronica loves manipulating her vagina until she explodes
It happened to everyone else; she swore it wouldn't to her
She wears her failed relationships like a shield
I don't think she even knows that I make her smile
My hands on her back; slipping into sleep
she had already found her party
The portion of her face she allows me to see
while she sleeps, i write myself into her life
the way she wears her weary
she left her handwriting all over the calendar
She knows no truth except her own.
She Called in Her Soul to Come and See
Sometimes the apathy she saw made her want to curl up and cry
Her grief is still too young to behave itself, so she never lets it out
The old hands you’ve baked around hers
serene. She sips her tea
In a quiet grove of pines under a frosty sky, he helped her out of the sack. She wore severe white hospital pajamas and was beautiful.
All the while he was talking she was thinking what his whiskers would feel like on the back of her neck
His hand speaks a foreign language to her ribs.
She was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
Her self image was not the force field she imagined it to be
She grew a little older, while he was telling her
At night, her eyes closed, she would
She was so quiet that nobody heard her
She is willing to attempt to retrieve the data. Go with her.
And she, with her beautiful words and such a fire burning inside
i gave her my heart. she gave me a pen.
She Will Have Her Way: The Songs Of Tim & Neil Finn
She asked me to read her a poem
She is the sea. Above her, he is thunder.
She keeps her lies everywhere
She crashed her car trying to avoid a butterfly
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
She always confused her greys with white.
She does not rustle but her flesh has the moonlit shade of a silver birch
She asked me to copy my poem into her notebook
'twas the telltale tink-tock of marionettes, he felt certain, that jingle-jangled from behind her shower curtain
Would you like to penetrate her shell, insinuating yourself among the pages of the books she is reading?
She bruised her knee. This is how we met.
She found her bliss between the headphones, and pursed her lips.
She flies with her own wings
I don't like her because she won't like me
They walk around her like she is in danger of breaking
She was a committed romantic and an anarcha-feminist. This was hard for her because it meant she couldn't blow up beautiful buildings.
I come home, she lifted up her wings. I guess that this must be the place.
You can play with my ex-girlfriend, but treat her like the lady that she is.
What's she gonna look like with a chimney on her?
She plugs her tears in the way you'd keep a dam from breaking
He touched her once and she turned into a golden creature. He never touched her again.
She is so beautiful, I gave up Nihilism for her
She sat in virginal white, eyes closed, with only her face in rose
She always was devious in her beauty
She does not take her trip. She does not shout out loud.
Her innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
I don't tell her these things, and she doesn't ask
Hands cupped into a half circle, he bent foward to help her catch a light
it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
She who leaves men as flaming wrecks in the ditch on the side of the road in her wake, yea, even submarines
She is the queen of accidental magic. Her used kleenexes, taken by the wind, become soulful ghosts.
When she sleeps, is she not moving her legs aside for an unknown garrison?
She Will Have Her Way
Some nights, alone, he thinks of her, and some nights, alone, she thinks of him
does she need to touch her own face to know?
she doesn't write, doesn't tell you stories, but somehow it's her words that spring to mind at those crucial, terrifying moments, and for that you are eternally grateful
She gets caught in the little world beneath her sheets
she lit her thumb on fire
She calls him Sugarcane. He calls her Hurricane.
why she makes her wishes at 7:07
She was the prettiest, loveliest cat at the ball and she had upon her fine gilded whiskers.
A dose of mystery slipped into her cocktail while she was in the ladies' room
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
I told her I could read her mind, but she didn't believe me. I could tell.
Because I still love her, because I know she still loves me.
Robert Lionel Fanthorpe fills up the word count in a science fiction novel: she brushed her teeth
I would have attempted to draw her if she had stayed that way.
She disappeared as if he had only dreamed her
She smokes. It wraps around her wrists and clings to her neck.
She said her father died of cancer in the sixties
She said, while hugging a bowl of turnips close to her bosom
she gave her heart to a falling star
She nicknamed her vagina "Crusty"
She, the Last Leviathan. She, the Station Agent. Chin on her Palm, she Watches Every Departure.
Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt
you never once told her how beautiful she was nor how much you truly loved her
She is a night of dark trees, but he who is not afraid of her darkness will find banks full of roses under her cypresses
She ties regrets around her fingers like forget-me-knots
She thought about giving him her heart
I gave her my heart, she tore it apart, and who gives a fart.
Susan Goldman, who has cervical cancer, is partly thankful as she braces herself but changes her mind as she's sprayed with burning jet fuel.
I haven't seen her in a month. She is still beautiful.
She picked herself up, wiping away at her dignity
She opened her eyes and spoke in a very normal voice, just as if she were sane
Her hands on my back; slipping into sleep
Property of Her Majesty The Queen
I don't think I would want to date her now, anyway
The sun was caught playing unashamedly in her auburn hair, setting our world on fire with giddiness
right under her surface
I ran over an old woman with her own car
Herr Geist (user)
Tell Stacey I love her
Since I left her
to let her know
And her knee touched mine
Somewhere someone is tired of taking her shit
Her raised middle finger came into focus
A soft wonder bites her lips
To Her Mind
The World I Made for Her
Funny -- she looks much smaller from outside her head
her eyes
A Jury of Her Peers: 2
I gave her two daisies. This is how I met your mother.
What do girls think about guys when they catch guys staring at their breasts, but the guy is actually trying to read her shirt?
Song of a Young Lady to her Ancient Lover
How Ozma Refused to Fight for Her Kingdom
using a circle to dot her "i"s
I can't tell the girl I love that I love her
Things I've learned from living with an unwed mother and her two small children
Performing her communion with quick slashes up and down her arm
See her talk
Sleepless amid her ships, her houses, her incalculable wealth
To Her Face
after her, I took my coffee black
I dreamed of her pulse long before I took it from her
Every beautiful woman has someone who is tired of her
Don't Kill Her Daddy with Careless Talk
To Her Door
All acts of love and pleasure are her rituals
The Saran Wrap Dominatrix and Her Cellophane Bondage Slave
Pig on her back
A man who never sees a pretty girl without loving her a little
What makes her so cute?
I watched her from afar
Her Voice
If you really care about someone, do not tell her to fuck off
I could hear her thoughts
Don't tell her she's beautiful
All that was left of her was a damp handkerchief
From Her to Eternity
Uh, are you looking at my joystick to impress her, or are you just an asshole?
The Soul selects her own Society
I followed the light in her eyes around the room, staying within range
I passed her on the street
I don't think I was rude to her, just cold and curt
notes I never gave her
Make the Moon Cover her Blushing Face
One day I wrote her name upon the strand
To hear her sing
To Her Body
her kitty cat (user)
The Dancefloor is our Mother. Her heart beats at 125 BPM.
The movie in her mind
Helping people cheat
My girlfriend and her pillow
my baby sleeps on her head
Her knees
Her name was Natalie
I was sure it was her
The sad thing is, if you get her you'll be sick of her in a year
A Jury of Her Peers
Stand in the doorway and watch her
Including her knees and a dragon made from a sock
dance with her
A New Student and Her Father
A Fallen Caryatid Holding Her Stone
My preconceived view of perfection could not accommodate her.
Wouldn't it be nice if I could remember her as a firework
Feel her pain
As the band laughed, her finger traced his spine, and he folded into her
I still find strands of her hair in bed
Her Headlights Illuminated a Death
Wouldn't it be nice if I could remember her
Bathe her and bring her to me
I never called her momma
I met Death face to face, and I mocked her!

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