She does not know
that her cheekbones
are her greatest instrument.
They cut through
the ether
conducting Debussy
as her eyes
capture the audience
in an unbreakable
gaze, darting
sideways acrobatic
in tandem with
the emotional core
of the music, running
parallel and perpendicular
to her fingers dancing
on the strings of
the violin.
Glimpses of Marlene Dietrich
or some other piercing siren
seemingly possessed
at times
by an ethereal orchestra
pulling you into her orbit.

The piece ends,
and you feel fraught,
witness to an
incandescent performance
never again to be repeated:
singular, poignant,
containing all the hope
this world has to offer.

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