To You, My Habit by Ariel Childers

To you, My Habit

by Ariel Childers

My breath still catches

when you come upon me unex-

pected.

Did you know that?

Didn't you ever catch the flash

of my lightning love

restrained

in the perfect orb of it's prison

and (if I asked you) would you

deny 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 ofyour lungs

from the words of your lips?

But I suppose it doesn't matternow

whether you were clumsy or ruth-

less

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 a while

longer

to drive away any for whom

my breath may catch

if they came upon me unexpected.