Imagine the amount of art we would have lost without "3am"s and heartbreaks,
Without starless winter nights in lonely little blankets,
Without the love that survives among those who can't be lovers,
Or without the love that perishes for one and grows for the other.

Imagine the amount of art we have already lost on the back of their throats,
Or at the tips of their fingers and the pits of their stomachs,
For there are days when the voices in their head are louder than the strings of their...