Love or blind-sighted :)?

The fly, oh my,
it had the nerve to pass me by
Oh, why did I
resent the passing of the fly.
I swished, I swat
and landed on my tush. So I
clasped my hands
while watching where the dang thang lands.
The fly, oh my,
he dared to stare upon my eye!
I swished, he swerved.
I dare him come at me, the nerve!
It's his demise
I have missed once; I won't miss twice.
I paused mid-air . . .
could it be he's in love, does care?
That isn't fair,
he's landed, is pulling my hair.
Oh, my, the fly
he flew away and I did sigh.