And when you least expect it,
My darling,
A wave will swell above you
As crests caress your arms
And bobbing
Serene–
You’ll float in
Endless bliss.

Two dancers entangled
Found themselves in flight
Magnets across hips
They collided in the night.

He lifted his hand and
She opposed open palm
Their breaths synchronized,
They shot off arm in arm

Their sways became one
Their footwork a mirror
But while chests warmed with passion,
Their minds became clearer.

Their smiles dissolved,
Though it might be perfection...
Alas they let go–
Each despised their reflection.

Guy One liked thick girls.
But I didn’t have curves so I started
Doing squats
Lunges
Barbells
When I would take a picture I would cringe
At the flatness of my ***
The thinness of my thighs
The sparseness of my arms.

Guy Two liked skinny girls.
And I had gained some weight so I started
Eating less
Running the treadmill
Pretending drinks were meals
I would stare at the toilet bowl and cringe
At the rolls in my stomach
The bulge above my jean hem
The loose skin below my chin.

I like strong girls
Who look in the mirror and smile
At their curves and dips
The stretch marks and bones
The freckles, the dark circles, the dry patches–

My body is a sanctuary
And if you don’t like it
Then *******.

He was never on time
And made poor excuses
Melodramatic
And made terrible jokes

He’d get carried away
*** wasn’t the greatest.
He had zero filter
Blamed others for mistakes

He never bought flowers
Never opened a door
He’d sweat profusely
And forget my requests.

And yet still I loved him
With his ****** quirks.
Imperfectly perfect,
Or simply– a ****?

We were once friends
But friends don’t devour each other’s hearts
And leave what’s left
In the sun
To burn.

I want to overflow with hatred
Spit it in your face;
Rip out your heart and place it
Dripping
Next to mine.

But I cave.
Isn’t it funny?
Even after all you’ve done,
I fear hating you the most.

Pierced
In my spine
By a thousand knives
I forgive you.

The thing about heartbreak
Is it stains
Each happy memory
With a dark smudge of irony.

They ask what I am
As if they could draw a map
On my skin
Paved by my color
My hair
And my name

But even I can’t trace the path.
I’m a mutt of people
Lost
In time
And yet I am here.
And I am human.
Is that not enough?