perfect happiness

perfect happiness

never lasts.

self-contained,

a bubble

of frothing mirth –

you follow it

with rainbows in your eyes,

balance it

on the tender tip

of your finger –

you cherish it

for the one long moment

before it bursts.

(what’s so precious

about plastic bubbles?)

in the dim alcove

of a small bookstore,

his lips brushed my cheek

and the years sloughed off my heart –

like a teenager

in the first spring of love,

I thrilled

in perfect happiness.