when the mail came
unmarked
I said I don’t want it-  return to sender!
I do not want this ****, again.junk mail is for the birds
I read books & letters, I do not open up
unknown packages for fear of ingesting anthrax
like that American did
a few years ago.

but it showed up once more
this time patiently waiting on my doorstep,

what
admirable
persistence

I thought to myself this must be a sign
of something good inside
(like the loving people that never give up on anyone else, ever)

intrigued by the beautiful wrapping,  I took it inside
& let it sit on my table  
for a few weeks,
half expecting something to happen, but
it did not want to make itself at home amongst
my masterpieces

so I moved it about,
looked for its place

it did not fit.
so I threw it on the shelf

Surprised by its lack of weight.
this **** thing must be empty !
why had I not wondered what was inside before?
(I’ll rip open that ******* & see what it’s made of)

but instead, into the fire I threw it
& the ashes disappeared shortly afterwards



the shelf remains empty
my hands warm,
the dust still unsettled
but by what ?