lord you don't know how you're making me feel...

it has been a very long time since i've written a piece about someone. and the two pieces i did write were about the same person. but this subject has needed a poem for a while and since this one doesn't suffice for me, there will probably more. but i don't know if any poem could be more true. perhaps he could read it and realize it was about him and make things easier by claiming where he stands. if you know me closely you know who this is about.i was told this was one of my strongest pieces to date (which i disagree with). i enjoyed the love given to it. and it meant a lot when a certain lovely man who doesn't say much about poetry brought up the constellation line a good 10 minutes later after hearing it...not knowing it was mine. evidently, screwed up loves or lack thereof provide great material. this poem doesn't deserve this much of an introduction...

ursa major:

i can barely whisper about the hue
of your skin, eyes, hair.
i am too hesitant and overwhelmed

with confusion. i sometimes think
your eyes were only constellations
that i could never quite find

or name. and at others i'm sure
each strand of your hair was a memory
that might be lost at any moment

down the bathroom sink. then again,
your skin was the dusty cover
of a book which hadn't been touched

in years. i could never read well though,
or nimble my fingers enough to please
that rusted latch. and i know

those vocal chords were serenading
like the robin outside my glass pane,
but i'm not so sure anymore.