Much Better

In all of the wisdom
that
saunters
in
between
the
semicolons,
and
the
layers
of words that describe
us,
I get stuck
reading the
lines
where
the poet
forgets
he
has an
audience. I get
lost
in the characters
that
dance
like a summer breeze
does
after
a quick
dampening.
See,
we’re much
better
that we think,
so
let all
these poets
linger in the space
in
between
the in
betweens.
We’re
just getting started.

M.C. Davis

Be There

I’ll be there,
just like you asked,
with love
on
the brain,
and with you
settled in my heart.
I’ll be there,
and without the chaos
of
dust
too busy to settle,
or a
sun too
prideful to
shut
everything down.
See,
I’ll be there
because my need
to
be with you
shifts
and permits me no
latitude
to
simply
be
here
without you.

M.C. Davis

Don’t Forget

Last year
we
danced like
no one
watched,
then
decided to fill
the
void
by singing
when the moment
focused
away
from
us.
We’re destined
for
greatness
you said,
stretching
our morning routine
to
a
new routine,
like
the time we
didn’t
forget what
brought us
here
in
the first
place,
and
just sat without
speaking
one
word.

M.C. Davis

If Only For One Night

This year,
solemn and weary,
the days
deter from
deciding quickly to
become
the things we
want
them to be.
They
linger,
and force
us
to watch
in disbelief
in
their ability to love
without
knowing
all
of
the facts.
See,
if only
for one night,
we
can
become like the
solemn
days,
then we’ll
just be right
where
we
belong.

M.C. Davis

An Afternoon

An afternoon
just gave
way
to a quiet
evening, nestled
in
between
a few
jazz notes,
that
have
decided
to
linger around
like
an
indecisive
autumn
fall
leaf.
Our afternoon
just
landed in
our
laps,
and we get to
dictate
to
the
sun how she
plans
to
groove
into
the sky.
She delicate
that
way.
See,
this afternoon
just
got better,
and
we got
better
just
by
standing
in
the way.

M.C. Davis

Latching On

We’re
latching on,
tightly
like vice grips
too
weak
to
let go,
and
as our moment
shifts
to and fro,
I’m
more infamous
than yesterday
because
I get
to
latch on to
your
hips,
as
they sway back
and
forth
like wind turbines
feeling
the
temptress
of
the wind’s
fingertips.
See,
we get to
seriously
latch
on,
and the
worries that drift
will
need
to hold in
space
while
we
find our
place
inside of these

messy
sheets.
M.C. Davis

All The Things

See,
we don’t always make
the
room,
the
childish divides, or
collisions we
intend
to spread in place
to
understand
all
the things that
matter.
We
stumble forward,
into
the looseness
of
the wind,
fearless, and without
the frailties
of yesteryear.
If we’re
so
fortunate,
we
get to simply
become
all
of the things
we’ve
desired
for so
long,
and like most
things
that fall
inward,
we are
just
there,
admiring our steps
as
they
were meant
to
be the entire
time.

M.C. Davis