The speaker addresses a loved one whose eyes she imagines as still, leaf-brown pools framed by long lashes like grass. Like the painting in the title, the beloved feels beautiful, quiet, and a little remote. She yearns to step through those lashes, part the water without a sound, and sink down and down until she drowns. It’s a strange, dreamy desire — not just to look at the person, but to disappear into their gaze completely.
The closing questions turn the mood more fragile and anxious. She wonders whether she would leave any trace, or only a bubble breaking, ripples fading at the edge, white bones wavering in the depths. The poem feels intimate and hushed, mixing deep longing with a quiet fear of being unnoticed or forgotten.