Description
our footprints meet on the corner, or they cross each other, our footprints see
each other, we leave our marks unknowing. under the woolly soft snow or in
the footprint-shaped puddle, or in the smell of the ground, or in the shoedust of
a step. i’m sure you’ve already been here where I am passing now, and I will
already be there where you will arrive an hour later. someone already had that
same idea that comes into my mind just now from nowhere, and that someone
was not even the first one, probably the umpteenth. time remembers
everything. it would be so exciting to see how many times our footprints have
met, how many times we had the same ideas. under the snow or the rain or
the dust, unknowingly…
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