Foreignness enters the hallway in the Debussy—

hinting at the fable

      resisting her.

Do they wonder at her pathos/ dressed in tulle,

  athletically inclined on jumping bars.

       One at a time

misleading her./

She is part of the moment/ unrequited amour/

       icing machine.

This motion in her eyes,

going outside,       the red brook

flowed into her eyes, her winsome eyes,

drawstring of light.