The Shining (Kubrick, 1980)
Calm me of the dark lesions so etched upon my mind. Drift like a fluttering snowflake and come to rest on my soul. Blanket the gnarly crevices, one sparkling sheet of crystal untouched. If I could consume you, like the holy sweet dew that collects on the gentle wisps of grass, to tumble in it, stain my elbows the wet green of spring. My friend, I would be emboldened to believe you as a part of me. And I will know how it feels when you laugh your daffodil smiles, and what your eyes, through the wince of tearful happiness, see in me.