What he said, groping

Taking off glasses
estranges places,
reduces literacy
to the largest print.
Lights loom, dead
oranges in a fog.
Faces move
under water.
You no longer see
eye to eye.

A hand wrapped in a glove
can no longer pick
a dime off the floor,
or a carrot-red
hair. Or thread
a needle. Or feel the fuzz
on a peach
or a familiar cheek.
You see, smell, hear
what you cannot touch.

That drug
for the racing pulse
puts sleep
into walking,
moves the sidewalk
far away and slow
under someone else's
feet. All day it's late
afternoon and 3:20
always in the radium dark.

Loving someone
not in love
is to lose one's glasses
underfoot without a language
in a village
fair, to wake up without fingers,
to drug the heart
and slow down a world.

- A. K. Ramanujan
From 'Collected Poems'

makes sense...