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.