it is no longer
about the bracelet;
the one i bought as a gift
to give to you,
insisting it was out of friendship.
the one i said
wouldn’t be awkward.
and it wasn’t,
because i didn’t give it to you.
it is no longer
about the unwrapped box,
tiny and delicate,
sitting at the bottom of my rucksack;
a box i might
let sit there for a few months
or even for a few years.
i couldn’t leave fast enough,
which is a weird feeling.
i remember thinking,
‘please let the weather be ok
so i can make the 1-hour flight.’
of course, i could take
the 12-hour bus ride;
but that would give me more time
to think about the stranger
for whom i bought a bracelet.
i made the flight,
the weather was fine.
when my rucksack came
down the luggage slide
i inadvertently blessed myself
even though i partly wished
the unwrapped box would be
gone from my life;
a piece of luggage i wouldn’t claim.



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