Its the truth, that I do not have
anything to offer you. that I am
not even beautiful in the way people
told you women are beautiful.
but I wanted to be one with you.
tell you stories on how my mother
grew up without a rice cooker,
but learned that if you put a plastic
sack on top of the cooking pan
the rice will dry up nicely.
tell you that when you run out
of soy sauce. You can let some sugar
cook in the oil till its brown.
then you throw the chicken in
and that's how it gets
a nice color.
that if you ever get an asthma attack
and you can't breathe.
you can put butter in coffee
and drink it. how something about
that recipe, grants you
back your ability to breathe
I had one too many stories
..but I was late to the party,
and you refused to let me in