F o x... In... B r a s s...

Tawny beige, young crystal fox...
she carries her arrogance well,
poisingly... 'pon narrowed shag,
plush, wine-deep burgandy.
No Gaultier Catwalk,
this be prologue
to an attitude dripping
hubrisly,
poutingly;
so damn angrily,
thickly fulfilingly -
strutting toe o'er toe -
yet with masked self-woe... such paradox.

No, Dramas' never seen the likes of her before,
All rise for her gala Brass encore!