Changing Lightbulbs
Up all night shuffling
through pictures of people
jumping from tall buildings.
The last moment
perfected unwired limbs
could be made still,
frozen into a shape
like a bent nail
on which nothing
can be hung.
How I wish I could
whisper desperately to you
as if our lives were about
to become extinguished,
instead of floating.
Each moment I must choose.
