It got cold, didn't it?

A night after a film I should've loved

With my left hand I'm holding on for vibrations,
but my head is waiting for ends of sentences
which never come
in songs I must know inside out by now.

It's two-duvet deep, this warmth,
and wholly necessary when the wind whips up
snow like that. There are gaps
I don't know how to fill.

The answers will arrive in my left hand,
because that's the side I favour
for good news. My right hand closes
the duvet round my back.