surely, yes surely
          the swindling sway
                 of frost bitten leaves
crushed to the marrow
             of another dinner's eve,
                   tender hands steeped in oils
fragrance wafting like
             the soft moss underneath feet,
                      a candle lit, drowned
in the droning stream
              of coursing music,
                       strings like an airy vessel
teetering like the flight
             of a subordinate trickle,
                        an orchestra crooked in

the loves which steeps