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Bubbly

There are so many things,
So many questions I wish I could ask you.
But such would be far too predictably unamusing,
Such would bring undoubtable disappointment doubtfully.
I would rather just sit here and blow bubbles,
Yes, I’ll watch them float,
The thoughts and the dreams only I could blow.
Yes, I’ll watch them float,
Bounce to and from the walls.
Because then I can continue to imagine,
Ignorance does indeed produce much-needed bliss,
And I may still insist,
That I can wait out happiness
Just like the bubbles wait to be disturbed.
Because time will water the seeds of my expectations,
The clock will sprout the joy and satisfaction,
Grow the plants I have been waiting out the drought for.
If I don’t interrupt the floating soapy orbs, they wont pop.
My doing nothing, of course, will slowly evolve,
Come from nothing in a Big Bang,
And fabricate a universe of contentment.
Then that nothing will become all,
All I have wished and waited on.
That my bubble-watching and dream-thinking,
Could actually become an atmospheric reality.
Then,
As certain as I am that when I cry “I love you” into the valley,
I will know,
A voice deeper and more lovely will reverberate unshakably,
“I love you” right back.
And I may finally put away all this soap.





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