Untitled Poem by John Powers

the light, which is blessed to touch your skin
is stolen by my awed eyes
I could call you by name, by my voice waivers
to define such beauty is to imprison it
whether i am seen by you matters not,
for i cannot be in anything but a dream
I must turn away, for it is rude to stare
but the impression I retain is painfully deep.
If the light, which touches your skin and is
stolen by my eyes is so blessed, and it is,
then I am blessed to be in the presence of it,
and I may steal it until I am gripped by blindness,
because it is worth the cost, just to see you today.