When it rains cold I let the rain in as a guest to the wood shop and let it in as if it were I was a ship underwater, breathing, soaking it in. I let the freezing air circulate around my body. I turn off the lights. I open all the windows wide. Turn off the fans. Listen to the cars swipe by like matchsticks. Like daydreams. I am a lucid daydream. Japanese joiners used to wet the joints before placing them together, so that they would dry and become inseperable. But when it rains houses don't fall apart. They settle.