Rushing through the seemingly
endless line of beings convincing
one to concede to what
the world calls giving
are people who owe people
a box or two of things
that are made to be given,
then soon, to be broken.
Not like it’s problematic
to let love be wrapped,
but never to go less than
what one believes it is until revealed.
For when people finally fall
in line, decided,
doubts still come,
satisfied or not?
One keeps these thoughts
until it’s time to ask: did you like it?—
followed by a nod, a kiss, a hug,
wondering if priceless, truly.
These, these are enough
to convince one, that again,
it’s the season of giving,
and of giving in.
