Down, in the frame of an open door, there's a woman's back in the dim light, half covered in a thin black dress, the milky nude shoulders flashes out and i can see the blade bones moving under the skin as the arms sway like waves, i imagine she's a painter mixing colors with delicacy, kneeled on the floor, her dark hair tied as a messy bun, i stared long, all that is visible to me this evening is the naked back of an untouchable stranger woman, making lonely art in my mind.