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