blank slate…

Manhattan’s different with a lover…the predictable is predictable…hands held…hearts wooed…nights are no longer dark…

lots of laughter…kisses on strolls in Central Park…curry in Korea-town restaurants…knees touching under tables…

getting lost is wanted in Gotham…this isle of romance…swimming in dreams..forgetting one’s purpose… focus focus focus…

the poet’s hand no-longer bleeds…this filthy city is now at peace…gone is the eye of calling-out truth…love can make you lie…

and so we come to this…we come to this…will words of grit dance on the page once again…or…will a happy folly lead you astray…which way asks the fool…

the blank slate awaits…

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