I search: find my reflection in this gold
a pretty complexion, this.
my record spins pretty damn fast
gibberish pales any meaning that ever existed.
I like your hands however.
maybe it’s because I like your hands.
(no not in that way silly bear)

that’s all life is though.
right?
cutting grooves in a vinyl surface.
some grooves are deeper… crookeder… shallow.
it goes around in a circle,
different speeds,
it hums every once and a while.
there are songs about love,
faster/slower,
problems,
victories,
fear,
fight,
fright,
confidence.
it’s life, I think, sure.

but,
who holds the stylus?
whose arm is it?

I search: find my reflection
barred in a pepsi bottle.
a number obscures my face.

does this have a point?
no;
it just looks pretty.
oh.