Only
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