The only plot to speak of on “Pose” is the one where the show buries boredom. It’s set in and around the New York City ball scene of the 1980s, and soaks you in a hydrant-spray of color, feeling and gesture, of people — gay black men, Puerto Rican trans women, white real-estate bros, their desperate housewives, everybody’s moods, attitudes, health, dreams, sexualities, crises and clothes.

The soundtrack is generously deployed and generously flavored. Swing Out Sister, over here. Eric B. and Rakim over there.

But of all the songs on this show, only one has been declared “our song.” It happened in the first episode. And it’s both out of left field and sent from heaven. A little thing. And, yet, if you’re the sort of person who’d sell your car to see Kate Bush do anything, hearing “Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)” three times is a lottery win.

See, a mediocre show would have gone with a more obvious obvious song, something disco, something camp. But they went with this one. They went with melodramatic understatement.

But wait, wait, WAIT: Who’s the “us” in “our song”?

It’s Angel (Indya Moore).

And Stan (Evan Peters).

She walks the streets and in the balls. He’s just gotten an executive job working for Donald J. Trump.

They meet at a drive-through pickup sex spot.

He takes her to a hotel. They size each other up.

They lie beside each other, and in a way that reframes the idea of a good lay, they talk.

As they do, “I’m Not in Love” by 10cc wafts in the background like smoke.

Obviously, something more is going on between them than the standard hooker-john transaction. There’s also something more going with this show when it comes to point-of-view and chronology.

Stan asks Angel what she wants for herself. “No one’s ever asked me that before,” she replies. Her dreamy answer — “a home of my own,” “a family” — plays over his return to his family. Her dream is his reality.

Time, in this sequence, moves in a kind of compressed parallel that puts Stan in two presents at once. Home and with Angel. Soon we see them back on the bed. 10cc fades out.

Up come the rumbling tom-toms and crying synths of Kate Bush’s “Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God),” from 1985.

The song continues to play as Stan drives her home. Like I said, the show is generous with its music. But with this song, it’s more than that.

He pulls over, and once she’s done marveling, off screen, about the fact that he works for Donald Trump (“I heard even his toilet is gold.”), they sit together in silence. Whatever emotion fails to pass between them, Ms. Bush is happy to express. “If I only could, I’d make a deal with God,” she sings. “And I’d get Him to swap our places.”

He takes out his wallet and hands her some twenties. They sit some more, stuck in the occasional awkwardness of paying somebody for companionship. But Angel takes the money.

And he musters the courage to ask for a kiss, and the kiss they have is impressively long, deep and real.

And the bridge of Ms. Bush’s song — which even uses Angel’s name — unites them.

“Come on, baby / Come on, darling / Let me steal this moment from you now / Come on, angel / Come on, come on, darling / Let’s exchange the experience / Ohhhhhh-ooooooooo”

They stop. And that’s when the really special thing happens. “This song,” Angel says, “is gonna be our song from now on.” You can see the back of his head as he nods in eager affirmation.

Then, in a flurry of frantic jump cuts, he’s back home, scrubbing the kiss out of his mouth.

Later in the episode, he takes his wife out for a fancy anniversary dinner.

As they’re dancing, the room goes from champagne yellow to lovesick blue.

Stan turns and sees a vision of Angel across the room. And as he does, the saxophone of Bernard Herrmann’s “I Can’t Sleep” from the “Taxi Driver” soundtrack (there’s a choice!) is replaced by the sound of the tom-tom heartbeat of “our song.”

This song?

The one about a woman and man trying to see things the same but failing to, about the struggle not for equality, but for sheer empathy?

I don’t know that whoever chose this song for this moment meant for it to stand for more than a trans woman longing for what she can’t quite have. And yet whoever chose this song chose for the love theme between a trans Latina and a straight white married man — in the late 1980s — also knew exactly what they were doing.

Kate Bush is everything the Brontës and the old movies told you love was. The makers of this show know what she knew: that love might be Cupid’s thing but relationships belong to Sisyphus.

But in the last scene of the episode, with Kate Bush having made her third appearance, Stan finds Angel in the spot where they met.

But the angles are reversed, and you’re tricked into a moment of optimism. Maybe they’ll find a way to run up that hill together.