Temple You (Lisa Russ Spaar)

What on earth is this poem by Lisa Russ Spaar doing?

She seems to be a talented poet, but this poem seems inexplicably bad. I like the title, Temple You, and it prepares me for a love/worship poem. Instead, I get couplets telling me that there is mystery in life, but that writers (who might be up for such mystery) more or less seem to say 'fuck it'. They keep on smoking/refuse to see the doctor (that is, refuse to find out the answers).

I'm still with it at this point. That's an interesting point - when creative sorts who write to seek meaning from nature/mystery just decide to give in. That there is no undoing nature's mysteries. This is a cool idea.

Then it returns to the 'you' in the title and it gets a little lovey:

For whatever part of   you
may be taken away, you said,

is the scar I will visit first
with my mouth, each time,

I still like it here, even. It's sweet - 'I'll kiss the parts that hurt'. But then it takes a turn that I just don't understand. I don't get the content and I flat out hate the mono-rhyme of the last four lines (ok, 3 out of 4): 

as gold visits the thieved till,
sun the obliterated sill,

saying praise you for leaving
me this you, this living still.

The language is 'poetic' without being meaningful and I don't see what the ending adds to the earlier content (which I like). Maybe I am just not seeing it, but this one did not work for me.

Favorite line: "is the scar I will visit first / with my mouth, each time"