gray music seeping like black water through stones, raw in the line and beat smelling as bone and fuel,
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she crosses the water a fog, worrying the river to waves, beating like a snare against metal bow, i believe she would sink if not for the music and the thrust of a distant god.
within a lowering gray sky a sun, brighter indescribable, grayer, penetrates not to gleaming slide, but her smoky breasts, making her shadowless and above it all; song.
naked, working, pushing her mile upon mile, a commandment, to become as arresting gear, quietly succumbing to her mechanical graces until the final passing notes.
