Bubbles

A child blows bubbles

dipping a bent wire

in a can of soapy water

and watches them

flow with the wind, unperturbed

about their destination

Along the way

they disappear

conceding to the wind

and people's restless fingers

the two finally left

one tiny, but tight

the other,

big and pretty loose

are the ones that

draw the child's attention

as he waits for them to quench

his quest for life

Pop!

Doodle Bug

keep an eye on the pencil

as it moves around

on a tiny chit, hastily torn

scratching the surface

in short circular motions

boring the ones

incapable to grasp

the suffocation of spaces, defined

captivating the ones, ridiculously

waiting for it to burn a hole,

or simply fall off the rugged surface

divine comedy

her toes curl around

in anticipation of his warmth

the beat of his racing pulse

punches holes in her heart

bringing him closer through her eyes

her arms wrapped around

in the rungs of knowing him

a part within her begins to rust

the mirror, on the ceiling, shatters

to multiply his existence

gathering the tiny pieces of him

her lips bleed

as she lets go of her divinity