Just finished reading John Gale's A Damask of the Dead. Quite exquisite, rather perfumed, prose poems about decadence amongst beautiful noblemen and -women. Recommended, though in small doses - one shouldn't overdose on lines such as: "Your face of ivory, smooth and unblemished as the perfumed sheets of silk we lay amongst in that time of gold and pearl air in that house of pale stone with its terrace overlooking the sea of blue glass; its towers of gleaming white quartz ever before me...", etc. But very well worth the read.