A ghost though visible, still is like a place your sight can knock on, echoing; but
Here within this thick black pelt, your strongest gaze will be absorbed and utterly disappear
Just as a raving madman, when nothing else can ease him, charges into his dark night howling, pounds on the padded wall, and feels the rage being taken in and pacified.
She seems to hide all looks that have ever fallen into her, so that, lake an audience, she can look them over, menacing and sullen, and curl to sleep with them. But all at once
As if awakened, she turns her face to yours; and with a shock, you see yourself, tiny, inside the golden amber of her eyeballs suspended, like a prehistoric fly.