The piano begins almost like a fixed wheel: low, even turns with very little body around them.

The baritone arrives softly, close to the piano’s narrow path rather than above it; the accompaniment keeps turning underneath.

On this small rise, the voice puts a little more pressure into its upper edge while the piano stays dry and repetitive.

With the voice gone, the piano’s small figure feels exposed—the same motion, now with more room around its decay.

The line lengthens here; breath becomes a held thread over the low resonance before the cadence lets it down.

The voice re-enters without widening the space. The frame stays narrow: voice in front, piano turning in place.

The descending line makes the space feel lower, and the piano answers with short, bare supports.

The phrase lifts and then gives back its height; the soft fall matters more than any increase in weight.

This later crest presses a little harder in the voice, but the piano still does not grow into a larger body.

After the voice leaves, the piano alone carries the mechanism down; each remaining chord is more decay than attack.