Whose gift this was I think I know--
I got it six months back or so.
Re-wrapped, be-ribboned, it moved on,
small sacrifice, a social pawn.
Degrees of separation later--
concierge, doorman, maid, headwaiter?--
it fell at last to you, old friend,
whose love for me, I see, extends,
no further than does mine for you.
So Merry Christmas to you, too.
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