a woman painted
                sculpted with smoke water and music
but the rigid stroke of death
turns her black and white
life dry
masterpiece now above, but never smeared.


here is where the fire is kindled-- for me. i love the concept
of a painted woman, that in essence she is not just something
to inspire art, she is art. but she is more than that, no?,
because you compare her to fluid things like music, water and
smoke all of which cannot be contained, unlike art. She's
living art. It is a really nice metaphor.

I'd like to see more of her "colors" echoed here,
beacuse I think it would contrast nicely with the dark image
you paint of the smoke singed woman, which is obviously
ubiquitously monochromatic.