Amidst piles of snow, I will build a bridge. Not from pieces of cold ice, but from bits by bits of my imagination. Don't ask, the moments without you, How I put on each other, every single adobe for a shelter for you to come. And you didn't. I tied my stuff in a black bundle, so tight it never unites. Not in a way you see and stay. And not in a way you don't see and leave. My footsteps remain in the snow and this cruel squall doesn't end leave walk on my footsteps and leave there is no end to this winter.