recorded conversations

we always say our conversations should be recorded,
(close to) 
free exchange
of thoughts in words
zipping along lines
widening in time.
together
we are the perfect song
she brings,
revels in
words,
and me
I bring the beat.
she feels the drum pound in her chest
alone
her head bobs.
alone
I remember words
and hum their unnoticed tune. 
finally noticing the rhythm in her voice
and the
unconventional beat. 
I've always believed desire to reside in layers
instrument atop
below instrument. 
her voice
and her guitar
are more than
just
her voice and her guitar. 
it is my definition of instrument
that has evolved,
expanded.
the layers are thought,
and thought
is my desire. 

September 6, 2005