You Are Near Poem by Chris Ernest Nelson

The light of day bends into the corner,
without permission,
to lift the dark blanket of the shadow of the angle
that imprisons the space.
A sharp break of tinsel light crashes
like glass against the opaque wall,
And all the while, the molecular dust
dances in the cleft haven.
The ceiling is pushed back from the floor,
and gothic arching reaches out of my sight;
out of the argument for staying behind;
out to the leaves,
That when looking through them at the sun,
applaud your blonde ovation.
Gifts in profusion.
Eye to Eye.
Not left behind in memories that stale with the skin,
but in a Fire that consumes a Fire,
catching the sapient pith ablaze.
Don't stop now!
A dream cannot be undreamed.
Consent is forever Consent.

Sitting with my heart thudding at my own knees
and my head inclining against the illuminate triangle
that opened at the first thought of this remembrance.
You are near,
Crowned in the radiant swirl;
Surging, tumbling, and waning-
then lifting up again in the warm engine of intruding light.
Not the sleepy waltz with a melancholy soundtrack
ready composed for it,
But our own music that we hear in our laughing at sighing
and the pounding of our blood at doors.
The dog snores dependence.
You range.
The salient reflex splendence reveals you,
You shining ransom.
My hesitant finger traces the line of your proud frontier,
a silhouette to set off the sharp edge with something human.
This temple, wrought instantaneously at a glance,
enshrines a great good.
The arch of light, the undefinable shadow,
the whisper that was not needed
Are tabernacle enough for now,
So long as the horizon of your face defines the sacred altar,
So long as your casual leaning on me vaults this heaven.