By Stacy Kadomasu

“Last night was fun, but
I don’t do Asian girls,”
he tells me
a comfortably white
lie to excuse the inebriated
blur between his and
my kind
because last night was
the kind of night when we were both
liquid heat
away our differences
the best kind of burn
I should’ve known
never mix drinks
because now
all I’m left with is a
giant fucking headache and
a regretful body trying to purge
the toxic waste
that is –
a comfortably white
boy who tells me he doesn’t
“do Asian girls”
but let me translate:
what he means is that
Asian girls are oriental
of foreign flesh
a fetish
deserving of a five-star rating
on his favorite porn site
he’ll just stick to the
little do you know –
I don’t do douchebags.

Stacy Kadomasu is an emerging poet who recently graduated from UCLA with a degree in Sociology. She began writing poetry for a class, and continues to write as a personal hobby. She likes to convert the more uncomfortable moments in her life into creative writing, as a way to redeem even the worst situations into poetic fuel.

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