They bubble you, they bubbled
into the bend of the neck
because love left
to empty another net
that closed around the few
silvery fish left in the bubbling seas.
They bubble you too, they bubbled back
in a wish of eyelids fluttering
like wings that will never take flight.
They fling themself
into a low tide mud bed of bubbles
with bloated wounds left
by prickly kisses
that meant nothing then,
now, or whennnnnever but
were still good to have on lonely nights.
Do you really bubble me,
they asked. Wait, but, do you really
bubble me too, they asked back.
Full throated scream as old as time,
the sound of loneliness, felt,
but too sorrowful a note for the ears to hear.
There, their, they’re they say
to comfort a sea-drenched
3D-printed heart.
They is who they was
since time pressed its lazy lips
against the Sea of Tranquility
and puffed a crush of soundless waves
made tidal by the earth-moon proximity,
swishing invisible foam
that folds back unseen and unheard into itself
beneath the glow of celestial blue oceans
that will soon warm and swallow
continents faded from sweet grass to dirt
while they bubble, and they bubble back,
while they embrace
along the new, flooded coasts,
eyes closed, hoping for one last kiss,
hoping to be loved
in the final moments
before it all goes under.