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Post-Christmas Poem

Some receive it as a gift, like a child—
              wrapped in festive tissue paper,
              encased in sturdy (yet velvety) bows,
              delivered in public, out in the open, for all to see.

Others toy with it as a string, like a kitten—
              dangling from above by an unseen hand,
              dancing from side to side (albeit erratically),
 enticing the playfulness from within, out, for all to see.

I walk behind it as an enigma, like a disciple—
              examining its angles and edges from afar,
              imagining (fancying, even) the mechanisms on the inside,
              yearning to clasp it in my hands, out in the open, for all to see.

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