My Cardboard Balcony

I offer my servant a drink. She takes it gladly, sips slowly, savors the tartness of the nectar as it works it way down her throat and into the abyss that is her stomach. She sighs as it settles. Then, I offer her my seat. She takes that gladly, too. She is beautiful in the sunlight from the window. She lies prone on the divan, feet bare, shoulders also uncovered.