My Love Is In There

My love
is in
there,
resting
in place like
a
whole note,
shifting
and tapping in step
with
our hands,
loose
in the
dirt
and without care
to
concern,
or
wind
to its
direction.

My love
is
in there,
filling in
the crevices,
and
if
we’re lucky,
your
love will
just
be my
last
resting
place.

M.C. Davis

Like This

No love
like this
simply
falls
into
place,
it
saunters
and swims its
way
to
the depths,
and
our fear
of this dance
just
floats like
a
feather does
on
a cool
windy
day.
A love
like this
feel like sun-drenched
rain,
misting
but not
damp
enough to matter
to
the view ahead.
See,
let’s
forget the rules
and
let
this moment
exist
without
paragraphs,
syllables,
of those
things that cause
our
sentences
to
end.

M.C. Davis

Space

Vivaldi
took a few
notes and syllables,
scrambled them
into
a few more
notes;
paragraphs
structured
to dictate
your movement,
and
now we
get to fill
our
bellies
full.

See,
rhythm
just paved
the
way for our
love
to find
each other.
This
poet’s
only request
is
to
not let
this
simply
stop
with
Vivaldi
and
his
chromatic
prose.

M.C. Davis

The Proper Placement

The
proper
amount of
placement
lets us
fall
into
perfect
position,
so
stop
falling without
intention,
purpose,
or
letting
your
stride get
too
ahead
of mine.
We’re
supposed
to
layer this
way,
so let
our placement
become
what
it
is.
Even our
most
perfect
strides
together
are just calculated
falls.

M.C. Davis

In The Event

In the
event
that we
crash,
let’s
find
a place
in
the middle
where
we can
let
the leaves
dance
in between
our toes,
or
the waves,
let them
glimmer
into
the crevices
of
our existence,
like
the Gods
do
when the
day
is over and
done
with.

In
the event
that
we
crash,
let’s
get
as close together
to
avoid
my
hands slipping
from
yours,
or our
smells
losing
their way
to
our love.

M.C. Davis