After A Downpour

After
a
careful
downpour,
we’re
left with
the
remainder
of
the
daylight;
soft,
layering
as
she
follows
suit
and gives
meaning
to
the
watch’s
turnover.

We’re
left
with
our hands
expressed,
lines
deepening
in
the skin
folds,
and
dark etches
of
life’s
artwork
crafted
neatly in
perfect
ovals;
underneath
the
pain
of
the day’s
end.

We
leave the
haste
and chase
for
the
deeply rooted
shaded
trees,
leaves
that
fall
at
Autumn’s
pace.

After
a downpour,
we’re
reminded
that
there’s only
one
song
that’s
sung,
and she’s
just
warming
up.

M.C. Davis

The Way We Became The Way We Became

Years
ago,
we drifted
together
like
a deep
Autumn breeze,
leaves
sauntering
from
newly
formed
buds, sprouting
and
stretching
their
limbs
filled
with
loose bark;
and
positioning
themselves
this
way and
that
until gently
settled
in loose
soil.

We
threw
risk
to the birds,
daring them
to mask
the
Sun’s veil
with their
gaze,
as
we
made efforts
to
feel
good; elaborate
sexy, and
intentional,
and
with
the glory
of
a house
filled with
soft
memories,
puzzle pieces,
and
fresh air
dipped
quietly in between
half notes;
as they
often
sit
idle, waiting
for
the
next
cue from
the Director.

We
then decided
yet
again to move,
distance
accompanying,
shadowing
the
murkiness
of days
into nights.
We
left
ourselves
open,
allowing
light
from the cracks
to
gain entry
into
our skin
cells,
gearing us
further away
from
the
trees,
roots,
and branches
that brought
us
together.

Finally, we
left
the comfort
of
the womb,
and
settled for
the
damp
texture
of distance.
Left, then
right, and
left again
until
the original
left
was no longer.

We felt
good,
but
with a tone
one
half-step
below
the rest,
and
with a careful
nest
not
fitted for
the comfort
of
two
any longer.

See,
we let
ourselves
go, and
fell
into
companionship,
and
became
the
way
we became
because
we knew
that leaves
only
fall if
they
are inquisitive
enough
to want
to know more
of
the world
below.

M.C. Davis

A Distance

A
word
carries

so
much weight.

like

silver pieces,
filled
up
to
the rim
in
a small
bowl.

Or,
a distant
phone
call
filled
with ones
and zeros.

I’m
in
love,
but
not at
a distance.

M.C. Davis

A Little More Time

All
we need
is
a little
more
time,
just
to clear
air,
and feel
her breeze
through
our
tightly
gripped
fingers,
toes,
and the
such.

And
yes, all
we need
is a
little
more time
to
fit
in
a few
more ‘I
love
you’ moments;
creme-filled
even,
and
with
that
give and
take
often felt
in
our
sheets
to
remind
us we’re
still
human.

Finally,
we
just
need a
little
more
time
to
simply
exist
without
feeling the
need
to
exist
too
much,
and
then
we’ll
be
happy
just
like that.

M. C. Davis