The Art of Solo Counterintelligence

You wake up, and you know
This—at least one’s waiting
For you, a little brick

Tied with a green ribbon
Left on the window’s ledge.
You’re getting used to this,

Solid-state packages
Deposited gently
That magically transmit

Through silicon or brick
But can’t be unfolded,
Can’t be entered, no room,

No space, no container.
Hold on to this—ready
Yourself for the moment

When it’s too suspicious,
Surveilling surveillors
Quietly from your room.

At some point, you will need
To fling this straight at them
Or fling it far away.