There is a tumble
of ribbons and words
forming bows and twirls,
wrapping my thoughts into
pretty little packages.
I line them up one by one
on the shelf
to gather dust.
One day you will come—
eagerly pluck them down,
blow them off,
admire each little gift
before removing the paper
to see what is inside.
These are the thoughts I
hold with me as I fall asleep.
In the morning, I know never
to expect your arrival.
I continue to line the shelves.
