Turned On

Turned on is inclusive
its more than just mind
its legs and its juices
all flowing in their time

Its notes beat out,
predicting our next move
(hey)

It’s a tiny melody
waiting in the wings.

Turned on is contagious,
it breeds more of the same.

Keep movings with these rhythms, babe.

Its more,
its more,
its yours and mine,
its fine, its fine.

Turned on is elusive,
a poem off its mind.
With words at its sluices,
they slip away sometimes,
(its fine).

-Bree 2000