wish were written

there are things i wish were written about you
lines i wasted on those who did not deserve such accolades
who did not deserve such beauty
who did not deserve me

even better are songs i never sang
songs that are wasted on who do not know you
lyrics that should describe you
notes that might become your whole self

or to sit and be shakespeare for a day
knowing you i could do one better
contain your meaning in a jar of sonnets
confine you to a living of iambs and pentameter

but there are things in you to which i cannot compare
to any fleeting analogy or simile
and i have not the ability in me to form the words
that would make and capture you for they do not exist

and i will look to your photographs to maybe stir in me
what i want to elaborate or explain
or maybe remember your eyes and how brightly they cast unto mine
and make me forget where i am and who i am not

even your hands upon my skin cause dictionaries to pour from my mind
searching and scanning for the just-right way to tell
to whomever may care to read or listen or sing along
in ways of just how deeply you affect me

for and about i cannot make enough
to encapsulate you; i am of weak hands and heavy heart
and you have it so easy, you can sit there in your wondrousness
and never know a thing about what plagues my knotted brain

it frustrates me so that i am stuck with scattered lines and maybes,
titles and choices and phrases unused
or things i cannot recycle because it would not be fair to you
your whole being requires all or nothing and i have nothing of value to give,

except myself