Chimeric poniards, vitrine points of ice
To freeze the spirituous tissues numb.
But in this throbbing, warmly-bosomed room
I sit and drink the fumes of glowing coals,
Allow my limbs to spread in languid ease,
Relaxing as a selfish, pensive cat,
Absorbing warmth into my seething pores
And drowning in a mass of phantom breasts....
The kettle bubbles humanly and croons
A far-off, distance-faded lullaby,