you pulled a tick off my chest in Sochi.
I was an easy target when I tripped and fell into the flowers at the
arboretum. you said it looked like I was falling in slow motion and
that I crushed the flowers and I guess I picked up a tick. and then
we shared an ice cream and I shared my body.
I didn’t even know what a tick looked like
but it sucked on me desperate as you yanked it from my skin. it
was flat unfed and you examined it pinched between your fingers
and I considered that I had never seen a tick before it was swollen and filled with blood.
I started wailing and
you were silent and you looked at me like, it’s okay. it’s just a tick.
it died instantly. and one of your hands was at the base of my neck
and the other was squeezing the tick and I wondered what blood
you were filled with.
for days I could feel the pinch of the place where the tick had been.
pressed my finger on it to remember how close it had come to
sucking me dry leaving me weak with a target on my chest or my
brain swimming in fluid or paralyzed and I wondered, would you
recognize me then?
and my heart felt like
it was swelling up.