it's in lifting
         the chin
that makes her neck muscles
                                            hard.

strands of blonde hair
                               pinched back between my knuckles.

her two hands
         crumple the collar
           of my shirt. I start at                                              the left ear
            as if searching
for something             worthy to say, and wrap
                                     under her chin
          like a scarf. for the neck hair it's in waiting.
                               two bodies

that lean against a car. I
                                               wear no
coat, and lie                should I say I shiver
                                                    from the cold
         wind.