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