Recycling

A poem.

I wrapped it in a bow and held it outstretched.
Hands cradled the box of ribbon and lace.
It was everything
and seemingly nothing.
I held it there for four years,
but in the end,
you never took it.
You reached out, untied the bow,
took a peek inside.
After a long gaze,
you decided it wasn’t enough
and walked away.
Leaving me to find a way
to rewrap and reuse the life
I’d been willing to give to you.

Photo by James Lee on Unsplash

Math

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