Pulled apart by my cotton candy hair--
boy love mistook me for a funnel cake. 

What is love without fried
dough and powdered sugar?-- You
said you wanted me sticky and
warm-- the cocooned paper plate
girl-- because that's 
the best way to eat us--
shocked and naked from 
the oil-- shiver and  
drip from grease-- 
Our blood congealing to
form strawberries and whipped cream--
eat me with your hands like
a man damn it-- this is no
body for a fork-- 
It was only a matter of time
before you started pulling
out my pink hair in hunks
of cotton candy--  shake your
love for me like fire works--
For you I can sleet in gold 
willow trees and crack geodes 
on the horizon line--
kiss me carnival sunset boy
--click rock candy teeth
pushed up against the calves 
of a Maple tree who was also 
one of our mothers--
He was determined to teach
our bodies to emulate fireworks--
make love like a Ferris wheel--
stop at the top and trace circles
with our fat-fried words--
wash away powdered 
sugar left on our underwear--
You thought love was about
using your hands-- about
paper plates and how much of my
hair you could stomach--
You thought you would keep
me on the Ferris wheel--
live in the broken headlights 
of fire works-- carve our
names in the calves of the Maple tree
for our address--
My mother taught me
that we should fold
our bodies into pretzels if 
we were going to be eaten--
I told you not to
fry my love-- they teach
us girl bodies about baking
so we know what to do
when the rock candy boys are done
and we can't be these firework
mirrors forever--
we bundle in loaves and 
soft pretzel girl-love--
contort these elbows into angles
--untie knots left in my knees--
twist into braids for
the hair I don't have left--
I know to rub salt in my match-stick
burns-- this pain
is for becoming naked bread--
Full-- and sliced and butter crown so
you wouldn't be tempted 
to call me sweetie
Bake myself slow and rise tall
gold palm tree-- shattered 
lilac and orchard neck
glass cotton candy hair--
I grew these thighs like
pretzels just to prove to you
that love isn't in your 
funnel cake tendrils-- I 
wasn't your pink cotton candy dream--
this hair was mine to eat--
I'm pretzel twist and salt kiss--
this wasn't meant for sunset boys--
you were to much a type of
like a Ferris wheel--
around and around and 
cracked sky-- and powdered 
sugar still on pretzels--
I still try to be sweet
even though I'm not trying
to work in fire or funnel cake
for you-- I sit on Ferris wheels
alone unlearning boy love--
baking pretzels--
stone throw fat thighed loaves--