Cotton Candy

I don’t usually date white men. I mean yes, I’m 

A whore but at least I wouldn’t be a white man’s whore, so 

Being with you made my heart afraid 

Because this isn’t at all what I had in store for myself. 

Yet, you made me feel special, like I was made of 

Cotton candy. Your lips were the 

Sweet mercy that made days feel like months.

I would melt at your touch and 

You would just keep devouring me so fully yet so softly that when 

My throat came up for air, 

I could barely get out the words,

 “Are you only into me because I’m Asian?” 

Which spoils the lightness of cotton candy but

You blew me away. 

And so, I trusted you and let you continue to devour me alive but 

In the back of my mind, I knew that your interests could conflate with fetish. 

I willed myself to believe that couldn’t be the truth.

Then you see, 

You decided to leave because we didn’t share enough interests for you. How could you

Say that when I am the cotton candy you dream of at the State Fair that 

You would drive forty minutes into the city for. But then again, 

I guess I am just cotton candy that can be 

Easily replaced by one from the grocery store.