I unpack my days slowly now,
peeling off tape,
leaning in to 
inhale surprise 
rising through
the gaps
of the gift box.
I wait hours
before I return
to open
a single
cardboard flap,
finding the handwritten note
that I read
and read again
before bed.
I wait until daylight
to lift the gift–
a glass jar of homemade jam–
at last
from its wrapping.
In this way,
I spread my delight
over time,
decelerating
so I don’t become dizzy.