When the day comes that I am asked, "what would the cure to all of your troubles look like?.." I will reply, " he wore eyes of green and skin tanned like leather. With a cushion heart sealed tight inside his chest. He is like a first snow draping across the pines, or a scrape made in an old oak. He's a sign, not that winter is coming, or if velvet sheddings. No. He's more chivalrous, a new chapter. When that day comes I know he looks like everything I've ever lost come rushing back at me.