Mood was melting down from his eyeholes,
A temperature rising to something billowing and steam-filled when,
With a burst of exasperation, sound burrows out from a
Deep direction, down his throat and out into cold air,
Creating smoke, stirring swirls before his face.
Feet move one way, another way, doubling
Over steps that match and sometimes don't,
Striking clumps of frozen earth that fly to the freshly paved walkway
Waiting to suicide with the fresh rays of daytime
Already creating a distant contour of her distant, shrinking shape.
Try and figure out if you can which words were the ones chosen at random...