The arm hair is not something I would especially notice or highlight. Maybe the slender fingers. Or something about the facial features, or ears, or something. But the rest is marvelously evocative of little things that symbolize bigger things; desirable traits of the beloved. Poetry, of course, is about economy of word when compared with prose. The italicized line; trying to recall something that perfectly sums up the beloved; but it eludes memory.

It reminds me of the poem by e cummings

my sweet old etcetera

aunt lucy during the recent

war could and what

is more did tell you just

what everybody was fighting

for,

my sister

Isabel created hundreds

(and

hundreds)of socks not to

mention fleaproof earwarmers

etcetera wristers etcetera, my

mother hoped that

i would die etcetera

bravely of course my father used

to become hoarse talking about how it was

a privilege and if only he

could meanwhile my

self etcetera lay quietly

in the deep mud et

cetera

(dreaming,

et

cetera, of

Your smile

eyes knees and of your Etcetera)

The final etcetera is much different in the glory of its intimacy than the other etceteras.

And the sudden jarring change in tone of the final line. He ‘ you do(es)n’t resent the fact that she left him / you. He / you resent(s) that she shortchanged herself. Like John Donne says:

Oh do not die, for I shall hate All women so

The surface bitterness belies the underlying anguish. Hope you don’t mind the lengthy analysis. I was moved to it.