I wish I didn't want you so

but every time I see a sculpture (I can't
help but think of you)
and your silver eyes
your glassy, silver eyes
that penetrate my soul and
make my knees go weak
and heavy like I'm
wading through weighted water
and trudging, moving forward, current pushing back
it's all the same.

It's all the same in how I am impaled through the chest
with your brilliance
and your soft demeanor
and there are so many hidden places of you
behind so many walls
of which I know nothing.
I know nothing of you at all.

And I am sure I love you.
I am sure I love everything about you that
you have ever done and found
and all of those mysteries veiled
behind the mask you wear for me.
In this dimly lit room I know I
love you so