I see my snowy steps disappearing into the
snow. The coldness will swallow them.
The wet winces the snow, wetter than any wince.

I am more involved in a sharp snowless stretch
than I was ever. I forgot that I'm existent.I try
to remember. A cloud is tossing its white to rain.

Nothing never rains outside, everything rains
inside. Everything is tossing firstly before raining.
The trees always feel this. They are existent.

The trees need to be existent. This freezing rain
is breaking the tree limbs. Their branches are
encapsulated in glaze ice. I need my steps back.

I hear a song coming from the coffee house. There
is a coffee stain on my right shoe. I take a taxi to go
nowhere. This rain falls down over the snow blanket.

The snow is existent until it becomes a bed for the
falling rain. I can be existent as long as I'm not cold.
This rain is not a tropical one, and I cannot care less.

There is something moving toward. It's my body. There
is something having no beginning and no end. It's the
movement in losing time. Rain and snow need time

to prove their similar personality and their different
appearance.Time is existent. I'm not existent in another
particular time. I can't come into existence twice.