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And pleasant dreams.
Rigoberto’s got me thinking about poetry and music, and I’ve been thinking about my favorite singers, who always seem to be poets at heart.
So 1 a.m. on Sunday morning is the perfect time to unveil my guilty pleasure, the man second only to Smokey Robinson in my heart. This was tonight’s lullaby, the song I needed to hear in order to end the day, and the reason I’ll wake up with a poem in my pen tomorrow.