The evening sun is drunk in by the goblets, and in turn they cast a drunken glow on the white silken table cloth and their vapors dance in the slanting light. They are filled with juices and nectars; each one painting the table it's own crystalline hue.
Sensual eyes beckon, hair anointed with the oil of gardenia, skin long heated by the day.
She smiles at him. He enjoys the tableau, as it's all for him, and she waits patiently until she can go bathe.