*

The napkin holder is a pledge of freedom

I turn it over in my hand

A summer ago I desired it for a joke

But now it represents more than I knew it would

A friend encouraged me to dabble in wrong

I listened eagerly, a child waiting to be told

The store filled with magics and trinkets

My fingers itched for something to take

A lovely jest came into my mind

As my eyes laid upon the green napkin holder

Send to my friend, I would

Something so small to be my first

Courage failed me that night

And for months onward I forgot

Until a day of circumstance

And my itching fingers were fed relief

They laugh and chuckle when I do it

They make jokes about my obsession

But really it’s not an obsession

An art I use for amusement

Then the store came back to me

Its magics and trinkets had grown

I searched with a smile for that napkin holder

And behold but I did find it

My itching fingers clasped it tight

My searching eyes made sure I wasn’t being watched

I tore the price tag and slipped it in my pocket

Heart beating, racing, in the good kind of fear

At home I contemplate this simple toy

And wonder what have I become

This napkin holder seems to nourish

The trouble I have become