on perfect bodies

your body perfect

not for its fact, or form–

but because it’s yours


Love, Actually: Four Haiku

something less like life

and more like this, the richness

of your soft brown skin


more like heartache, less

like heartbreak, the depths of which

i’d die to venture in


something more like soul

and less like woe, something i will

only hope to know


it wasn’t fair or

kind or nice or sweet, but it

was love, actually