For N, my forever friend

i looked down
the other day
at the swirling possibilities
of what could be
and could have been
brilliant rainbow laced soapsuds dancing in a bucket
a bubble rose up from the swirl
as i watched
and floated up to my face
and
popped

you are not mine

out of potentials
stories
dreams
and ever-changing fantasy,

real like tiny bubble spray whispered on my nose

you are not mine

and that is fine.