Breath makes smoke
Air that smells like snow
Won’t you [bad word] 
As sun sets, trees make silhouettes
Then disappear from view

Night sounds heard
Between traffic bursts
Are growing louder now
I stare through the night for familiar headlights
But they [bad word] 

And it illustrates for me how very far [bad word] 
It’s not just my body I am trying to keep warm
And the stoplights turn
Just about three hundred times
And headlights shine on me
But none belong to you