I dream of you. I ask if you know any songs for ghosts to sing. I dream you again. I ask if you know how to approach a kiss without shame. I dream you once more. I ask if you know how to move in the falling darkness when everything is uncertain. I dream you some more. I ask how you hung that look in your eyes on the wall. I dream you again. Until I have nothing to ask of you. Until you are real.
In which a long-time record collector and sometimes poet shares shares vinyl finds, words of worth, and plays keep or cull.
