The Fiction and Poetry of Jason Thibeault

The Transience of Want

The bubbles rise and pop,
like so many hopes and dreams:
hands held,
a long embrace,
kisses exchanged.
The imaginings of what might be linger
in their passing.
For a moment, I am breathless as
they jump out of the glass
faster than I can catch them,
exploding in an effervescent fizz
of tomorrow’s promises.
My focus shifts to what’s beneath:
the drink is settled,
the ice crackles,
and a long sip dispels the trappings
of expectations.