The speaker describes falling into something he finds deeply comfortable: an "old dark map," which sounds like a familiar mental route, a habit or a well-worn way of being. He does so "to my satisfaction," a phrase that feels a little self-pleased, as if he is settling into his own private world.
Then the poem turns to his wife. Something in that mood is "light enough to light up" her, the way a match flares. But the poem ends on a quiet admission: he doesn't pay her "the respect / of seeing her." She is lit up, yet he never really looks.
The mood is hushed and slightly uneasy. The speaker seems aware of his own inattention and perhaps ashamed of it. The title, "Matched," hints at pairing, but the poem suggests a closeness that is partly missing, since being beside someone is not the same as truly seeing them. The poem is short and leaves the guilt unspoken.