Love-In-A-Mist, Edible

There might be one melody constantly playing around me. It continues perpetually and when I find a piano to sit down with, my fingers pick up the thread of the refrain at that point in time. I seek out new pianos, just like all piano players constantly do. I visit friends and ask if I can spend time with their 88 keys in various states of perfect tuning to perfect out-of-tuned-ness. When I book holidays, I look at pictures of all the accommodations in the towns and cities and choose where we stay not by location or ratings but solely by the option of spending time sitting down at a bench with that constant melody. These recordings are like holiday snaps.