She had been earthed
(had I earthed
her by my intrusion?)
eyes no longer turned

upon phenomena I
could not locate.
She considered me a
plunderer, a fecund man,

a madman: one who
scries alphabets
of daggers, of arrows.
Zigzagged tights in a

knot in her pocket,
the tip of each
hair luminous as fox-
fire or rotten wood,

she opened the violet
gate at her throat
to release the fractal
silhouette of Pan.