Oh little red record player sitting on the floor. Your volume is as high as you will go. You sing to me “I want to hold your hand” from a 45 single vinyl disc. No-one watches me I dance around you in my little blue dress. As I spin in circles, my flowery swing skirt flares like a flower opening up to the sun. I sing loudly. I want to hold your hand too. No-one can hear me. I am happy. My heart is bigger than my whole being. I feel love. The song finished. I’ve left the tone arm off. You begin again. I feel that love again. And again. You were my first love.