I was unknowing, stripped of sense in the dark. The light was behind me, unnoticed, left alone, cold and troubled. I sat, watching the shadows on the wall. The shadows on the wall, playing out in front of me like a smog-filled marionette show. So corporate. So predictable. Without the light, everything is smog. Everything was dark, everything was shadow. So horrible in my perfect intuition.

A being, heaven sent and grand in it’s diverse divinity turned me to see the light from the wall. And at first, I was blinded. Blinded beyond belief. And the pain. Tears soaked down my cheeks, I squinted, unable to see what was torturing me with such a depressed, morbid, torment. I could not turn to the wall. The road already cut from me, I yelled like a newborn baby, the link to it’s mother torn. I found a new link forged before me, stronger than the strongest diamond, glittering with more passion then the brightest gem, forged by the light’s divine servant.

The 50-foot-wide search and rescue lightening spotlight around the world illuminates my heart like a moon on a cool summer’s night pulled closer by the gravity of love. Stars glitter, details upon details, impossible to memorize. Memory after memory, all I can see is light. Beautiful, bright light. They are on top of the world, and they illuminate the dark night sky like nothing below them could even attempt. The dark sky is a barren wasteland filled with unclear smog. Only this light can push through to it.

There is a little red light, flashing on my desk in my dark office. It sends the bright, blinding heart of the cherubic loveboy immortalized by the cliché that is knitted in that horrible, deathly, suffocating smog like a spot in a patchwork quilt. Still, because of the light, I feel. The light penetrates the smog like a knife through butter, hot and vaguely erotic. Only the light can push it all away. Only I have the light. Only I have the light.

There is only future now. Only the growing, sparkling light. It blinds the sight of all others and resists the smog like oil and water. Passion is hotter then even when the link was forged. I have sought my light, for so long without ever knowing, unconscious in my shadowed, smog-filled wasteland, barren of dreams and hope, filled only with filth and pain and suffering. But all of this has been shoved away, and today I may say. I love you.