They texted asking if I like it

They texted asking if I like it.

I said yes without a fight it.

The way you say yes

when protecting someone's happiness.

The box is on my shelf.

Unopened. All by itself.

I've been looking at the tag.

Their handwriting doesn't lag.

They signed it with love.

A real love. Like a glove.

They thought this was what I wanted.

They really tried. They're not daunted.

I'll open it eventually.

I'll make a face that says yes.

I'll thank them for their success

and the thought they sent.

I'll keep it somewhere visible

so they'll see it. It's responsible.

So they'll believe I use it each day.

That it matters in every way.

That the thoughtfulness landed

the way it was planned and

it all worked out just right.

But right now

it's still wrapped.

Still perfect.

Still a gift that means everything

except what it actually is.