What the Cold Does to That Part

She was nobody I knew. Her scarf

had slipped and showed that hollow—

the one above the collarbone, the shallow

pool of cold air. I felt the chafe

of it immediately, stood there

on the wet sidewalk like an idiot

in January, and that was it,

that was all it took. Fourteen months of care

and management, and a stranger's coat

slips open for four seconds.

Gone before I even reckons—

reckoned. Right. I cleared my throat

and walked. The city going gray.

That hollow lit for half a day.