My Cardboard Balcony

A William Carlos Williams Christmas by Belinda Roddie I haven't unwrapped the gift you gave me as my "Secret Santa" though I would imagine it's a new shirt or the book I requested but still haven't managed to crack the spine of yet Forgive me I figured out it was you from the penmanship and from the neurotic wrapping job, with the corners tucked into paper lips just right, and the bow sprouting like a poinsettia that still mistakenly believes it's a weed

Please, love, I don't want to cause you any harm; just drop the broken bottle, where you sucked away the remains of your father's soul, and no one will be hurt. See, I'm armed with silver and brass - the breastplate beneath my shirt repels every single touch. I miss feeling your skin against mine, though, before it started to burn. I don't want to see you injured, or worse, killed, my love - but we are running out of time.