I twisted my fingers
On my black and tangled hair
And there was moisture
Which are remains
of last rain.

I sat aside lost in dream
I set myself
In a front seat of
Car, that's just moving
Ahead with its usual speed
Crossed thousands of people with
umbrella

I am dry, although it's raining
Blurring the windshield
Making it hard to drive
Killing each sense
and paralyzing me.
The sky is falling
gradually.

But I am dry
My eyes too
Body, clothes, and books
All. I am leaving behind
Each thing went wet.
I am dry

Gently, I removed
My hands from
My black and tangled hair
It still has moisture.
Remains of last rain.