Bubbles

we are bubbles.
fragile
precious
colors on the breeze.
each one of us
floating
and our time
variable, unpredictable.
some lasting, persisting
holding on.
others ending.
and i wish
we were made
of more sturdy stuff.
glass perhaps.
lasting until
cracking
upon touching
each other.
steel then.
our contact
a sliding by
frictionless
unchanging,
all safe
and metallically frozen.
still
this is not
what we have.
but this:
a rainbow
a membrane of shape
held momentarily in the sunlight.
and someone
you and i
beautiful
watching
loving
and suffering
inside of it all.