To you.
My Habit
My breath still catches when you come upon me unexpected.
Did you know that? Didn't you ever catch of
my lightning
the flash
love
restrained in the perfect orb
and
(if I
deny
of it's prison
asked you) would you
it?
Even in that one moment when your smile tasted of mischief, tongue, poised like a needle
over the bubble of my hopes, that
same bubble blown from
the breath of your lungs
from the words of your
But
I
suppose
it
lips?
doesn't matter
now
whether you were clumsy or ruthless
the soapsuds are
still
sticky in
my
hands, either way.
Perhaps
I'll
pretend
I
like their
slick bitter feel,
perhaps
I'll
hold them awhile
longer to drive
away any
for
whom
my breath may catch if
they
came upon me unexpected.
Ariel Childers
