I First Dated a Boy Who


Was four years older

And not a virgin

And whose kisses were wet

And fingers strong.


He called me on the phone

With the cord I twirled around

My own fingers, but

I was in the shower

Because in a house where shoes are left at the door,

You rinse off the day before you sleep 

in the bed that was worked for, just for you.


My hair still wet,

My mother came to me.

He talk too sweet,

She said. Her brow

Was furrowed but

The corners of her mouth

Were smiling. 


I Dated Another Guy Who


Announced that his bucket list included

2) Date an Asian girl

14) Date a white girl


Isn’t she the best of both worlds?

His friend asked, hitchhiking

His thumb at me. 


My guy crinkled his nose

And shook his head





Jade Hidle (she/her/hers) is the proud Vietnamese-Irish-Norwegian daughter of a refugee. Her travel memoir, The Return to Viet Nam, was published by Transcurrent Press in 2016, and her work has also been featured in Michigan Quarterly Review: Mixtape, Southern Humanities Review, Poetry Northwest, Witness Magazine, Flash Fiction Magazine, The West Trade Review, Bangalore Review, Columbia Journal, New Delta Review, and the Diasporic Vietnamese Artists Network’s diacritics.org. You can follow her work at www.jadehidle.com or on Instagram @jadethidle.