Do I Know You?

do i know you?

do i know you or
perhaps we just
need more time
to
kick dust in between
toes tipped like
waterfalls
or like
the time we spent talking about the
way your lips
body
face
teeth
smile
toes
laugh…

your very diameter seizes the heat wave and
i see poetry in your face
and in between
your words
thighs,
smell
and inside of your fingers
that glide through
the air like
butter beans being scooped up.

Yes, you know me
and my world
just collided with a notion
to speed up just to be
next to you. You’re
warm and full
of opera.

Yes, I know you.
Yes, I know you.

M.C. Davis

You

You

You remind me of how the world
changes inside-outwardly;
In between the hum
of our breathing, we admire days
that come and go,
and slowly
they tell us the innocence
our love represents
more than what the
world offers. You dance
like a child in
loose rain, and you
watch
the sun create
a spectacle
of the moon and stars.
You are with me
and I become intertwined
in your words, touch,
and expression.
You.
The most insatiable you.

M.C. Davis

The Honor Graduate

The Honor Graduate

The final days are swift
and without fail,
they glow a faint hue of yellow.
Days start to linger like
desperate falling leaves
and the red-inked papers
are wild and laughing at us.
We shift in our plastic seats
in daunting almost lifeless
pursuits. It is after all,
the last day for rehearsal
and our bodies begin to imitate
the reckless nature
of wind being taunted
by sand dunes. We mirror
each other, quietly making
the room small and inviting.
Finally, the honor graduate
speaks and draws us closer
to the moment. His voice
quivers and shakes
and we
dance with him in almost
quiet procession.
Unafraid and
following his every word.

M.C. Davis

A Phone Conversation

A Phone Conversation Between Two Lovers

I need to hear that
you love me but
before you do so,
tell me what you think
about this suit,
but hold that thought
and tell me what plans
you have
for our future and if anything,
speak in poetic verse and
quietly dispell boring
myths of fatigue and infidelity.
When you’re done,
don’t stand too closely
or walk too fast
since my desires are
still water-drenched
and my need for
you is fresh,
and indifferent to
why we stand together.
Tell me why you
love me and don’t
quit until I
close my eyes.
Don’t forget
to lock the door on
when you leave.

M.C. Davis

Who?

Who?

There ain’t enough time
to make your favorite
soup, or think of
your diet, or rifle for my
own problems to help yours.
In fact, we just met yesteday
and I don’t think
we’re going to click like
butter beans and cornbread.
Like yesterday, you and I are forgotten,
in between
loose thoughts and half-chewed Now&Laters.
You’re tough to the touch,
and my wisdom
cautions me to stand too close;
if anything, you cause me
to shiver like uncontrolled wind.
What I mean to say
is your contagious and my
love for you grows in
a way unfamiliar
and to be honest,
I like the idea of
you near me.

M.C. Davis

Don’t Hate Me Because I’m Beautiful

Don’t Hate Me Because I’m Beautiful

One day you’ll look up
and not see
my intense hold on you. In fact,
you’ll look up and not
even see my semi-chocolate
impression on the bedspread.
In fact, you’ll stand tall
in knowing that
my life has resumed
and the chills that come
afterwards has now limited its
reach. What I’m saying
is that my time with you
is up and your day with
me has made its last
stand and if anything,
you belong over there
and I over here. So, don’t hate
me because I’m beautiful
and I won’t hate you
for not understanding
our distance. It is in
this understanding that
we’ll make the most
progress towards
a beautiful
friendship.

M.C. Davis

I Think I Will Have That Drink

I Think I Will Have That Drink 

I love the small
version of you
and the delicate touch
of your fingertips
and the poetry that each
layer brings to how we devour
each other in slow and deliberate bites.
It’s magical, and the leaning sky
doesn’t wait but instead
hesitates, nods, and dreams
for us. This is how we have
learned to dissect life, but if we stay too
long, then we are already late
for the evening show.
Yes, the drink will do us fine
and you too will learn
that with each sip,
we are falling in love
once again. With each sip,
we are once more unfamilar
as to why we are here
in the first place.
Yes, I think I will have that drink.
Yes, I think I will.

M.C. Davis

Communication I

I love poetry, as most would suspect about me. There is something about the charisma that poetry brings to the table that changes the color of a room or causes people to stop talking. More specifically, I love slam poetry because within its many different layers, I hear music, and tonal noise that causes anyone to stir uncomfortably.

I ran into Dr. Maya Angelou’s poem Communication I a few years ago and it made me stop, think, and then sit down. It’s poem that surprises you then makes you realize that Angelou’s understanding of love is absolutely misleading in the sense that love between lovers might indeed be the same love for another. There is a sense of prowess with this poem and I believe that the balance between love and sincerity is proven deeply within Angelou’s layering and almost subtle hints of what’s to come.

Communication I

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
they 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’s 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.”