I can see you. Winter isn’t here just to live by calendars and forecasts; it’s here to fog up the air around me, and the air around you. I can still see you. You can’t see me.
Here, right now, how I see it all matters because tomorrow relies on it. So I’ve decided to see through you. And winter is here, so I can have something to blame for the cold feeling I will have after having seen through you, or something to thank, for you will not have seen through me.
There are wires; there are hearts, not used. And you can’t see me. That’s why tomorrow; all of this will be just a memory. I seeing you not seeing me has no future. And winter is here, to teach me to get used to it.
And maybe I’ll grow old by the time I figure this out, but I’ll be old and strong, having lived through many, many winters.