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My thief my counsellor tell me how it was then under the bridge in the long cashmere scarf the opera-lover left silken length rough flesh violet light meandering the splash that trickled down the wall O tell me what you hissed to him and how he groaned to you tell me the opera-lover's body limb by limb and touch by touch how his long arms arched dazzling under the abutment as he played himself to the hilt cloak flocked with light My thief my counsellor tell me was it good or had, was it good and had, in the unbefriended archway of your first ardor?