You afterward thought against the ribbons. 

They seemed to say, “I’ll wait by 

the stairs. Call me down.” 

The perfect bow and curled ends had you

sitting on the top step,

playing with your poodle skirt,

swearing you didn’t care.

There were better uses of your time—

that you know and use against yourself

next time you unroll the wrapping paper.

But you not only cut and fold,

you double knot and hang your skirt 

in the shower steam to smooth.