Unclear

It's heart-provoking when you're near,
But though provoked, I grow unclear.

Have I seen in you with true sight
Or what I want to see?
Is what I want now worth a fight,
Or should I let it be?

Is greater youth to greater age
A true impediment?
Or will your smile quell my rage
In loving splenic lent?

But most: shall I be kept behind,
Kept immature by sex,
In the island-hopping of my mind
From one girl to the next?