Laura Vitcova
I NEED TO BE MORE SPECIFIC IN MY ONLINE DATING PROFILE
My body holds on to the memory
of being singled out for extermination.
It's plodded the trail from forced labor,
to my mother's bed, to using a smoldering
blow dryer to look like a femme fatale
while burning my scalp in the process.
I'm attached to little things like dust
that's difficult to clean; a splintered love.
I can barely say goodbye without crying.
I'm looking for a falconer to tether my legs,
watch me magically transform an ache
into an electrode, get what's stalled to beat again.