26.2
October 28, 2009
Fast
wind
only passes
through
the hair
once, and I’m
forced
to dream
of
the ways
we
can
take this
26.2 to
the
next level.
Of course,
I’m
still
dreaming
and
your hands,
eyes,
and love
are
all
giving
way to
my
26.3.
See,
our pace
is unanimous,
but
if you’re
only
a few steps
ahead of
me,
I’m game
for
just the
view.
M.C. Davis
Communication I
October 23, 2009
She wished of him a lover’s kiss and
nights of coupled twining
They laced themselves
between the trees
and to the water’s edge.
Reminding her
the cratered moon lay light years away
he spoke of Greece, the Parthenon
and Cleopatra’s barge.
She splayed her foot
up to the shin
within the ocean brine.
He quoted Pope and Bernard Shaw
and Catcher in the Rye.
Her sandal lost
she dried her toe
and then she mopped her brow.
Dry-eyed
she walked into her room and frankly told her mother
“Of all he said I understood,
he said he loved another.”
