She said, "I'm afraid the fluorescent light
is going to fall on me,"
and I laughed, glancing up
at its cracked shield, the low, grating hum
“What if the mercury gas leaks out and—"
I told her she would live forever, then,
like an old Chinese king searching
for the secret to long life.
“I don't want to live that long. I don't know
how much more of that noise I can take.”
I looked up, but wasn’t wise enough
to see pointed shards, already falling.