Just when I thought I’d forgotten how,
when I was sure the flicker and spark had turned to a thin line of vapor,
and too much regret had emptied me of the inclination,
I spent the last 10 minutes flirting like a pro.
It wasn’t hard.
I didn’t even have to think about it.
I wasn’t even trying.
I just looked into his eyes and smiled, and
the rest rose up in me like bubbles in champagne.
So sweet. So familiar. So missed, this giddiness.
This sly delight.