my father never met a gift bag
he wouldn't keep
my mother contextualized
as she kept me
unicef greeting cards
another roll of dreidel wrapping paper
she kept
the floss and tissue
the peanuts and bubbles
the boxes within boxes within
bags within boxes
enough to show thanks
to grieve decorously
to condone
to graduate
to birth
to stuff behind the curtains
in my brother's room
the menace of a gift
a house trained stalker
who threatened to hoard me
condemn me to the scents of candles
I never consented to
animation suspended
in the fluff of loss
I feel this for sure.
ReplyDeletethe menace of a gift </3
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