Fire on her muscle

 The woman crosses the hallway

Quarter moon peeking in from corner window

Hushed emotion wants out, the night cool echoed

caught inside iron of the room

She looks across the metal figures

Their bodies holding in last warmth

and night's remaining water

The tides of over exertion

The flame spreads over her body

only to be extinguished by sweat

Her body steadies

Her eyes avoid the flirt

Narrowing like closing gates

Passing between human sculptures

the half moon growing

Burning along their shoulders

The young woman raises her appeal

And her hand in a wave

daring to greet the outsider

and touches the cold metal

Her reflection breaks apart

across a dozen eyes that cut like lazers

speeding across human lines and human flesh

The hall fills with silver shapes

Arms reaching toward effort

Legs buried beneath braces

faces turned toward stars

The flame catches on her thigh

Crosses the full moon

between towers of welded steel

The young woman walks deeper

following tides of her inner intuition

Sparking arbitrarily inside human sculptures

Morning enters the hall

the metal begins to dry

Emptiness and a salty aroma

The young woman stands among them

But they are now part of the equipment

she uses to stay in shape

Her muscle taut her perspiration warm and saline