Listen to the honeybees, the flypaper-spined wallflower, the spit-soaked microphone, the forged banknote. Listen to the salmon swimming upstream, the coal mine canary, the blueblack flower shedding its bloom of beatings. Listen to the melancholic pickpocket, the stumbling lover with a headful of tequila and twilight, the masculine and feminine sides of ourselves caught in the copulation of random confusion. Listen to them all and they’ll tell you: that which can fill the heart is pretty much anything and everything.
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