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54 I Only Have Eyes forYou The sun has dropped below the opulent blue ridges of the Berkshires toward which i drift, one hand draped languidly over the wheel, the other scouring the radio, focused like a safe-cracker on the dial, that hairturn to the right or left that might appease the static, lock strands of tangled airwaves into a pattern for a moment till they snap into place, emanating as pure song which is what happens now, the flamingos and their sidemen filling the car with soft chords, a sound that seems to permeate all space, resonates even in my chest, as though it too were a hollow instrument, made of vibrant polished wood, and now their voices enter, pulsing together with tremulous longing, Choo bop choo bop / Choo bop choo bop a husky, harmonic confection through which i float, and whatever anxieties beset me move off at a distance like the dark, ambiguous hills that recede as i approach—certain i’ll be loved, almost giddy with the surety of it, as if only that will pacify the chaos in my head until i have time to make sense of it all— such sweet, momentary salvation while the music deepens and a few stars shudder like the prelude to a perfect night. ...

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