A passing meeting with a stranger leaves the speaker wondering whether such moments mean anything at all. The opening questions are hesitant and a little self-mocking: is this trivial, and am I making too much of it?
The speaker then turns inward and seems unimpressed by what they see. All they have is "layers of fabric," "scraggled hairs," and "scribbler digits," a rough, untidy picture that suggests self-doubt, or at least a sense of being ordinary. Against this, "she" appears deep and mysterious. The poem pictures her as "murky depth," water that is hard to see into and strangely inviting.
The mood shifts from awkward uncertainty to a pull of curiosity. The final lines, "Jump in / Drown slowly," are both tempting and a little dangerous. The speaker seems to want to know her, even if it costs them, and the short, broken lines mimic that hesitant lean toward the edge.