Of all the colors counting my favorite one is you. I couldn't be more happy if all the snacks were blue. Statistically speaking - tongue tied - vomiting words, but all completely true.
To the editor, I read the signs: many long books, reflections high and low. For a great fear, a life without, alone. Madam, I confess, of my journey far and less; of stars and streams alike. Nothing helped me see. Not the sun behind her, burning in her amber eyes or words within set free. I implore you, find the will. Maybe not a happy ending, but an ending even still.