Play that song again -- the one you say reminds you of winter. That's when it happened the last time. You can't figure out how it happened; it must have been the song. You always have that tired look on your face when you sit there on your bed, like you really don't care if it happens or not. You want this to happen, don't you? Turn the volume down -- it's so hard to talk when the music's so loud. When was the last time we sat here like this? Not as long ago as you would like? Too long? Take off your shoes; you don't want to get dirt on the sheets. Now your socks. You're not cold, are you? You're shivering, but maybe you didn't notice. You're wearing that shirt again, even though it's so hard to get off. It'll be easier if you don't think about it. Do you want some help? Your hands are trembling. Have a cigarette; it will calm your nerves. It's never been like this before. You can turn the music back up if you want; talking isn't necessary. Just focus on getting undressed. Stand up and undo your pants. This is what you want, isn't it? No one knew about it before; no one will find out now. Is this making you uncomfortable? You can always stop it -- this is all up to you. Do you feel vulnerable, standing here naked? You can talk about it if you want. No? Then get the lights. Just think about the music. How it reminds you of winter.