The Haze of First Sight – Vincent Edward Manda

That night;

In the packed club,

She danced aware of only one other

Sitting; apparently unfazed by the relentless rhythm,

In a dark corner

Where strobes of laser light

Bounced off the reflective walls behind him.


If hungry eyes

Could devour

His would have obliterated

The world around the two;

Leaving them dancer and gazer

Floating amidst silent stars

And pulling moons

In an interminable, expanding universe

Of inexplicable opportunity.


Alas, it was all a mirage

And I awoke

Cold, wet and hungry

In blinding light

And exploding drums,

Unsure of what’d occurred

The night before

And close to not caring

If tomorrow held sun or rain,

Light or dark

And the eyes with which

To see them.


his name rhymes with ‘mince’. He’s rarely without a notebook and can usually be found next to the closest bottle of red wine. Previously a writer for The Roehampton Lane Journal.

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