GR translation: lethal and bright as sudden wire

[Mike Jing]

P227.22-37  Their breaths are torn into phantoms out to sea. She has
her hair combed high today in a pompadour, her fair eyebrows, plucked
to wings, darkened, eyes rimmed in black, only the outboard few lashes
missed and left blonde. Cloudlight comes slanting down across her
face, taking away color, leaving little more than a formal snapshot,
the kind that might appear on a passport. . . .
       “A-and you were so far away then . . . I couldn’t reach you. . . .”
       Then. Something like pity comes into her face and goes again.
But her whisper is lethal and bright as sudden wire: “Maybe you’ll
find out. Maybe in one of their bombed-out cities, beside one of their
rivers or forests, even one day in the rain, it will come to you.
You’ll remember the Himmler-Spielsaal, and the skirt I was wearing . .
. memory will dance for you, and you can even make it my voice saying
what I couldn’t say then. Or now.” Oh what is it she smiles here to
him, only for that second? already gone. Back to the mask of no luck,
no future—her face’s rest state, preferred, easiest. . . .

What kind of wire are we talking about here?