if night should take you, i would just dream you back to life. i would restore your eyes to blue, your hands to their porcelain delicacy and your hair to any color you like. i would restore your laugh, your smile, your sigh. laboring over each one to get them right. i would dream you back in all the ways you were, you are, and wanted to be. on a Greek island. at a restaurant. never working another day in your life. i would dream all this for you because i dream all of this now each time the night takes me away from you.
In which a long-time record collector decides which albums to keep and which to cull, supplemented by other commentary
