You can tell a true lover by the gifts they give.
When you only get them on occasions,
dutifully,
when millions of people probably got the same thing,
Love is coerced.
The true lover finds you gifts
randomly, accidentally;
the world is the gift shop
for a museum about you.
She brings them to you
in cupped hands,
like a child who has found a lightning bug.
The cuff-links you didn’t know you need,
the poet you love
who just wrote a new book,
a small notepad that fits in your pocket
because you love to write.
The occasion is always,
the reason is just because.
The gifts are the reflection of your presence
in your absence,
and you will never throw them away.
Craig Hordlow
June, 2008
