Our Record

my effervescent dream
of beauty and Buddha;
of love and ever evolving shadows.
your ripple has no form.
as you shout
'were connected, you see?!'
well, be that as it may, baby
but i'm only as connected to you
as i am to the music playing loudly on the speaker.
it's somethin' beautiful
that plays over and over
again in my head.
teasin' my thoughts,
tappin' my toe,
and wiggling my hips.

the beat that accompanies
the words that i write.
the love,
still under covers at the end of the night.
the records starts to skip
and i begin to wonder...
where is the music going?
where are we going?
the record spins,
you drop the pin,
we listen to our song...