There is breathing that is yours
it is mine for now
and it is warm
the breaths I borrow from you fleet rhythm

We play a song from bad speakers
that I've been listening too everyday for a few days

The song is a blanket
it's not down but nothing's perfect
underneath it is warm like the breathing

The wind outside is noisier than the song
not knocking but clanking cold on my windows
I am thinking of the cold outside
I am under the blanket that is the song
I am under a window that faces the highway
I try to think of nothing

But I cannot think of nothing
because I am thinking of the song
this song written decades before me
this song that is short
I am afraid that the song will end
I am warm and thinking of being cold

Even under this blanket
I am not listening to the song
I am thinking of the next song
the song I don't know
the song that I am afraid of