Rest
is what
these lovers
desire, not
Work.

Now that we've grown
All that we learned
Was the list of things
we had in common
Had only grown
And blossomed
Into a riper piece of fruit
For us to consume

Though man seeds no milk
she feeds upon my breast,
gluttony sustaining upon my
being and I am irrigated.

She is subtle on her needs
gently massaging me into
subjugation and I wilfully
rest upon her jagged shoulders.

I am a depleted image that is
fading with the contemplation
that I am but a vessel of her heeding
and soon I will be a husk of silence.

But in tainted milks there is thoughts
of freedom, that stigmata on her
yearnings and sour aromas now tainting
her hold over my essence now screaming.

I was her substance, now I am desecrated
shell of near nothingness. But I'm wilful
of her disposition and she is fading upon
the lilies of waters that drown her needing.

She is drowning in ill thoughts wanting to
devour my being, but I am a new blossom
and she is that which has fallen a leaf of
decayed time and I am now a free flower.

बिबार नोँ बारोब्ला गोसोआ
बेसे गोजोन जायो आंनि,
आंनि हान्थिनाय आंनि रंजानायाव।
गेवलांबाय था नै बिबार
साननि रैरुब सुदेम सोरांजोँ,
आंनि बारियाव गोसोनि गियानाव।
बेबादिनो मिनि गेवलांङै
आंखौ गोजोन होफै नोङो,
आंखौबो गेवलांनो फोरोँ मुलुगाव।

He was waiting for that blow of wind
Which could just take that
Blossom smell of love to her
But she,
She was a bird
Who didn't want herself
To be in a cage

                        ~Akhil~

The cherry tree outside
thatches its delicate fingers
into a mesh of pink petal sea,
fathomless to the eye.

The window frames it,
a perfect picture untarnished by
brushstroke, pencil or pastel.
Each line crisp, each colour full

The wind tosses the branches
into waves that break pink spray
into the breeze. The blossom snows
down like a springtime blizzard.

Soon the branches will be bare,
like bones stripped of flesh.

Always blossom
when you appear,
the sweet knew
at the forefront
of new;
wonderfully,
delightful.