Haunt
Some words don’t arrive as inventions. They arrive as pressures.
Haunt has been moving at the edge of my work for weeks, not as a ghost, but as a field condition. It belongs with affective logic and memory density in the lexicon, but it resists being domesticated into definition.
Haunt is what happens when coherence stretches thin. It is not a concept to master, but a presence to notice.
