the wishing hook

Hung on a wishing hook, dangled as if
from the unsteady firmament, stars
falling left, right
around you, you
hang

there so
steady, as if

none of this

is to do with you. And it isn't.

I wish
and I wish,
I could lift you down, but
I cannot reach, and

you do not fall

for any of it. Yourself pierced through,
you've concerns of your own to occupy you.

It would be
so easy, or

easy enough, but

this isn't a dignified way to go, love.

I wish that it was.