A lazy noon

stirs me from your memory to this glass of tea

and a wondering embrace

 

In a mood busy with inquisitiveness

I smell the lees of the scent

that lingers

behind you

 

I sense your shade in the shadows

in the dregs of all that gossip -

Oh you sinner!

 

Like a rumoured prophet's advent

you slide from the ripe fruit of sleep

afire with ideas, your flashing wit