Streets of Manhattan.

You have me
for you, greatly

intrigued— amazed, 
awakened as wonderland

is to Alice.  Though
no blonde ambition,

no colorful
characters— just many

streets & avenues— to
the open-ended,

unconventional and
underexposed. For

timidity is no option
and weakness I am.  I

saw you there.  My
sheltered, overprotected, 

and shielded vanity
mirror.  In a dream-like

world staged on the
original insomniac

island.  Our eyes
greet in disbelief

meeting and greeting
where the concept of

right and wrong no
longer exists.  As the line

dividing fantasy and non
fiction evaporates.  You

move uneasily as if
discomfort fits your 

high rising size.  Until
our hands shake

in verses of revelations—
devoid of hesitancy.

And I hear your voice.

Mark Anthony Thomas
Copyright © 2004

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