It is tempting only to recall

            The great arches of the cathedral,
            The single scout breathless with
            In the tall swaying grasses
            Bent by his escape,
            A vast morning plain before the cry is raised

            Rather than

            The sure slow steps
            Across my willing back,
            Their solid graceful warmth,
            And then your curling toes against my cheek
            Before you sprang away 

            The phantom ecstasy
            That keeps me on my knee


            Emanuel E. García, A Deeper Symmetry2014