A Spiritual Woman

 Close your eyes, my love, let me make you blind; 
 They have taught you to see 
Only a mean arithmetic on the face of things, 
A cunning algebra in the faces of men, 
 And God like geometry 
Completing his circles, and working cleverly.
 

I'll kiss you over the eyes till I kiss you blind; 
 If I can—if any one could.
 
Then perhaps in the dark you'll have got what you want to find.
 
You've discovered so many bits, with your clever eyes, 
 And I'm a kaleidoscope 
That you shake and shake, and yet it won't come to your mind.
 
Now stop carping at me.
—But God, how I hate you! 
 Do you fear I shall swindle you? 
Do you think if you take me as I am, that that will abate you 
Somehow?—so sad, so intrinsic, so spiritual, yet so cautious, you 
Must have me all in your will and your consciousness— 
 I hate you.

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