The Matryoshka Dolls of Gift Boxes

by BOB GALLO   Jan 25, 2025


You break the taboos of words, one by one.
You crack the shell of your body, your shape,
and taste the pleasures of the senses, one by one.
You open the boxes of your gifts
beneath the tree of your existence,

only to learn their prohibition—
the 'boxing days' of your inhibition.

Among them,
you dive into the ocean of your heart,
into endlessness—
at the end of each end,
each endless, no-way-out alley.
Each box you open boxes you further,
each opening another lock.

You learn crucifixion
and the pain of being the Christ,
even to your own.

Love—
so vast, like the oceans.
But life—
a river running to its end.

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