Prompt: In case of <blank>

In Case of a Wild Hair

No. Not that wayward cowlick
strand refusing to be held down.
More sudden than when Bahamians
turn left as soon as traffic lights go
green, before oncoming cars switch
from brakes to gas. This move
starts in your blind spot, overtakes
your senses like the drone of cicadas
or the stench of diesel mixed with garbage
during summers in Kiev. To react,
you must throw your body into the power
of its sharp bend—like the way
I had to match his sudden, urgent kiss
and touch—heat for heat, flesh for flesh.