Each passing day
your ring's mark
digs it's grave in my skin,
not too long it's been
when our bodies tied knots,
when our souls married,
untied each other's knots,
untied each other from knots,
our tongues strangled
eyes sinking,
war of words,
or a lighthouse in floods
forbidden fruit in bloods,
lustings in the night's hoods,
immerse drops of me in the flesh
Oh! now a marriage of bloods.

- Diljeev

She is requite incarnate
the nemesis who filled me
for years with self hatred,
now she is mine to embrace,
it is everything I ever wanted
the answer to all my prays
and yet it almost isn't.
you see when you and yearning
share lifetimes of marriage
requite is ought to be the mistress,
the almost, budding into a miscarriage.
Yet I still love her,
is this how it'll always be?
a happy marriage with yearning
and the mistress, requite, the almost.
for lifetimes to come,
being my arch nemesis?

A fool for love
and for requite,
her golden brown mane
his fingers in tight,
souls were touched
in the night's quiet,
his tears roll a lane
her fingers in respite,
lover's etching their love,
sonnets they live
sonnets they write,
her golden brown mane
his fingers in tight,
then they sleep.

It's a room of gold lights
he is drawing lush nectar
the fear is drawing his blood
the admiration is enslaving
the fingertips are tracing
every inch,
through the cloudy nights.
The ears are savouring
each whisper,
they are savouring anatomies
perhaps the creator's
greatest mights,
Perishment is consuming him
he desires yet he doesn't
for what good is fulfilment
if it didn't birth from yearning.