there are always christmas lights
in my stories, and sometimes they fit
subtly on the spines of my bookshelves
and no one will say anything about it.
and other times they'll lay knotted
and twisted in piles in the middle
of the living room and someone
will ask "can I help you with that?"
I didn't notice until now that I was
doing it all by myself.
until now when there are people
around me stringing the tree
in the window for all the world
to see and I sit on the couch to write
[image: Kylea Borges]