Recovering from Sight

I don’t see how
These lasting impressions
Could be for me to keep,
But they resist suppression.
I can’t imagine having
A safe soul in my inner spaces,
The forgiveness he must exude;
A soul composed of tender graces
With strength enough to survive.
Somehow my weak eyes
Chose an impossible suitor,
But despite all my tries

I can’t dethrone the ridiculous affection
That I can neither allow.

These impressions became the standard
By which I now measure all men
Whether or not I mean to measure,
Even when I don’t intend.

He’s too good for me,
And no one else is him.

Scandalous, the covert widow
In her quagmire all day,
Inadvertently sealed her heart
Before it was even free to give away.
Perhaps it was self-defense
To keep me alone,
But he was gravity from the first;
In his eyes, the cosmos shone.
I try to sacrifice it, killing it on an altar,
And I always think I’m doing well,
But then I see his face
And it all goes to hell…

With one glimpse of heaven.
What an impossible mess I am

And what a lonely life I’m set to live.