In the fizz of soda foam,Â
a soft childhood lingers,
fresh bubbles rising,Â
like a dream lifted from something ice-cold.Â
She holds a glass of sparkling joy,Â
and time slips quietly back into a glowing summer.
A tiny shop in the heat of noon, our secret place.
 Coins in hand, the crisp pop of a tab—our quiet beginning,Â
the sound that meant everything was about to feel bright.
Coolness fills the air, bubbles bloom and burst,
 carrying weightless delight.Â
One sip, and joy stays sealed inside; a gentle clink,Â
and summer wakes again—heartbeats bursting like light.
She is a soda-tinted daydream,Â
a fleeting sweetness that never quite fades.
 On ordinary days, she lifts her glass to yours,Â
offering a small,Â
sparkling memory of everything we once were.