On the small screen, I watch lover boy
fall for Seoul city girls he’s never
met. One moment, they live in opposite
universes and in the next, they trade
glasses of champagne for confessions.
I tell myself this only happens in
the movies but still move to Seoul with
suitcases full of satin dresses, pearl
necklaces, partially-finished love letters.
Sashaying into a bar, I see dozens of
lover boys labeled on display only. Still,
I introduce myself as Korean girl.
Did I mention we’ve never met before?
He says I look elegant and over-
polished, another way of telling me
you shouldn’t be here. Later that
night, I google what to expect when
dating Koreans: mixtape albums
heartbreaks, endings unlike the ones
in movie scripts. I dream of lover
boy but it turns into a nightmare in
which I am exiled from my own
desires. He will only love my silvered
reflection on the screen, unfaced.
BIO: Jessica Kim is a disabled poet from California. A two-time 2021 Pushcart nominee, her work appears or is forthcoming in Wildness Journal, Diode Poetry Journal, Cosmonauts Avenue, Grain Magazine, Longleaf Review, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, and more. She is the founding editor of The Lumiere Review and edits for several other literary magazines. Find her at www.jessicakimwrites.weebly.com and @jessiicable.