your little bones could not outlast
the fevered fire that burned too fast
you died curled up against my thigh
for hours i didn’t know how to cry

you weren’t a god, you weren’t a guide
only fur, and warmth, and love inside
no words to give, no voice to lend
but still, you were my sweetest friend

i shared my wins in quiet light
you wagged your tail just right
you didn’t speak, but still you knew
my joy was yours, and yours was true

now some days pass without your name
and guilt arrives like quiet flame
but from above you lay upon my chest
a pitter-patter, small and blessed

you don’t stay long—you never do
you know to leave before i lose me too
like bubbles born in tender skies
you rise, you shine, then softly die

a bubble’s life is short and sweet
but still too long until we meet.

so when i cross that final line
i’ll bring you home one last time
you’ll squeal and jump into my lap
tucked in tight, ready for your nap

next time though, you’ll be here to stay
i know i’ll have bubble back some day