Which Direction

Which
direction
leads me to
you,
west or east
or
some cardinal
place
in
between;
like semicolons
that
simmer in between
a few
clauses,
or
a moment of the
day
that
decides
to
shift into
darkness without
asking
the
stars
for permission.
Which direction
leads
me to
us,
and our life
that starts
and ends
like
bookends to stabilize
the
entire
bookshelf;
or
like a feeling
that gets
noticed
in
the most
perfect
tense.
See,
I’m
learning that
every direction
leads
me
to you,
since my
eyes are curated
for
the most
subtle
and
beautiful
of
things.

M.C. Davis

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