I am staring into black at an orange and a green indicator light on the wall across the room which fragment like snowflakes because of my poor sight. I am listening to the same set of songs I put on each night to fall asleep to. I listen. I think of nothing but love. If I could make a picture, it would be colorful or bold in shades or tint or even monochrome but it would be a picture about love because anything less would fail. I present myself in a manner which seems weak to others but it is because I am gathering love like snowfall to give to you. I have no energy to speak. I only think of love. I have no god because I only gather love. I play you songs because of love. I stare at the lights on the wall and have no mean thoughts like staring into falling snow. Those went away when the electronics turned off, when the books closed, when the bank closed, when the school day ended, when I got off work, when I chose you rather than the ones who go to bars, when you were forming in your mother and I said to her, I love you. I love you.