I turn on the radio, and clear some space for you. This is that song you like, which goes thump-thump-thump. The lyrics are immaterial. You’ve never heard the song in full, never all the way through the fadeout, where everything slows down. You’ve danced like mad to this song, you’ve danced your brains out on the floor to this. This is your jam. I can see you dancing to it now, if I imagine really hard. I clear some space in my room for you, roll up the carpet so your light steps can be heard against the wooden floor.