I'm not, I do

 
I'm not an eloquent man, but here's what I can say:

I fear the ghosts
of my own presence,
the ones who've left me lit
like an old lantern,
burning slow and dirty,
billowing acidity -
but you've been my
exorcist,
my means of escape,
my steady comparison
by which I finally know
how to measure myself.

I'm not an intelligent man, but here's what I do know:

This flickering hope
is far from dead, much
to my heavy thanks,
and those thanks extend,
of course, to you:
You who have opened my window
so that less harmful things
can fly their way in,
alight on my headboard
and warble uncertainties,
the fairest kind,
your fairest kindness.
_________________________________________________

Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
Laura Marling, Tap At My Window