I committed mail fraud
the day I confiscated my son’s note to Santa
a criminal act done out of heart felt intentions
to make a little boy’s eyes light up
as bright as the remaining working bulbs on our
anorexic, vertically challenged tree.

A crime of passion
with limited unhappy consequences
well so I thought…
especially since the ghosts of Christmas past
has known me to be the only parental helper
Santa has for him

My son’s seasonal wish list
with hand sketched hearts for postage
unintentionally excluding a destination of return if unread
innocence still gives him the confidence that all wishes can come true
when you believe with your whole heart,
so he made sure not to leave any white marks
in-between the red outlines.

As I unsealed the envelope shaped construction paper,
the cracks in our family structure became visible
avoidance is longer a strong enough adhesive
to seal emotional wounds

He wrote:

Dear Santa:

All I want for Christmas is for my dad
to come and play with me
so I can tell him I forgive him and love him

Please and thank you.

On Christmas Eve,
instead of wrapping gifts
I knelt in prayer for a Christmas miracle
for Santa to deliver potential impossibilities down the chimney.

I hope the North Pole UPS workers delivered my letter.

I wrote:

Dear Santa:

Don’t let my son’s heart turn into coal

Please, I beg of you

Bah! Humbug!

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