The Existential Spritz – By Geox

a poem where the bubbles are brief and the meaning is negotiable

The glass was light, the mood unsure,
A sun-kissed haze without a cure.
Bianco danced in floral thread,
A whisper from the half-unread.

The spritz came next, a crisp delight,
That tried to make the void feel bright.
A splash of elderflower sweet,
To hide the crack beneath your seat.

A twist of lemon smiled too wide,
A garnish faking joy inside.
You took a sip. The fizz went flat.
You smiled back. You knew all that.

And as the drink began to die,
You found no meaning, but you tried.
And that, perhaps, is what persists:
A spritz, a sigh, and soft what-ifs.

📜 The Existential Spritz – The Recipe

Instructions:
Build over ice in a stemmed glass or goblet.
Stir gently. Top with laughter.
Sip under a sky that doesn’t answer back.

Best enjoyed on patios of quiet crisis, or at brunches where everyone’s pretending to be fine.