The speaker has reached a point where dreams and reality blur together, and they can't tell where one ends and the other begins. Their response is to make light: they "lit a lantern with words," striking them "like matches against a soul." That image suggests writing costs something. Each word is a spark that takes a piece of the speaker's inner self. The aim is simple and intimate, to see the other person's "real face."
The title points to the myth of Eros and Psyche, where seeing a lover's true face is risky and has consequences. The poem seems to echo that idea, though it never spells it out. The final two lines turn sharply. The other person's "history was rewritten," and "our fates" are "not ours." The effort to see clearly seems to arrive too late, or to meet something larger than the two of them. The mood is hushed and uncertain, searching at first, then quietly resigned, with a sense of loss left hanging in the short last line.