From my cold new york seat
Your hands feel warm on my neck
Rough bricks poke the back of my knees
As I lean to rest my head on your shoulder
Your squinted brown eyes struggle to adjust
To the blinding dim lights of the city
Tips of your calloused fingers trace
The scar split between freckles on my shoulder
Slow content sighs trail from your nose
Buried in my knotted fading sunset hair
Your mouth whispering drunken things
Into my goosebump lined ear
Echoes of sirens push you back
As if the sound waves hit like a gust of wind

The rooftop is freezing against my back
Like my hands on the back of your warm neck