Is it the old wiring buzzing,
some frayed knot, loosely bundled
in asbestos-filled cotton candy,
eager to spark?
Or those damn energy efficient
light bulbs bought a decade ago
with their morbid sense of color,
that glow immortal, haunting
with every mirror-glance?
Maybe it’s the breaker,
exhausted, making sense of tragedy?
Flip the switch.
The buzzing is gone,
and so is the light.