the night before my birthday
I am eating biscottis my maman made for me,
writing a card with a pen my friend sent to me,
waiting to open that birthday card that says
"do not open before January 18".
i am guessing what book my love bought for me
and looking to see if the raclette grill survived the flood,
my skis are being waxed and my suitcase is waiting
to be filled with slippers, jammies and socks
for our trip, the night before my birthday
i am playing the flute with delicate fingers
and waiting deliciously for tomorrow.
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