veined ovals lean against the hose with small puddles,

guests: though one more a guest than the other

towards that end, and treading amongst the surface

she plays the Body living, breathing

spinning

in the pitter patter

of her Shoes

she nears her end

the smudges, bending gently with gusts,

now bow beneath

...her shoes

so slight

just

        touching

                         her visitor.

she folds the air into herself

and crystals to the sky

at last alive.