Imprint

 

his relentless fingers
follow an unbroken trajectory
of lusty greed
over my feverish skin,
smearing impossible daydreams
like a vibrant painting
bathed in hues of red
over my flawed body;
an immortal imprint
searing through my flesh slowly,
tendrils of heat
spreading tantalizing
through my veins,
mingling my blood with his essence,
leaving on my tongue
the scorching taste
of his maddening presence
like a permanent after taste
or an inescapable memory
of skin against skin,
of body against body,
united but never colliding –
an everlasting reverie.

Worm

 

It slithers

Inside my brain –

Creeping around,

Inside out,

Making it’s way

Between all

The dead,

All the decay.

It crawls

Through the labyrinth,

Suckling on

The dirt,

Feasting on all

The grime,

The dust

Of my sins.

It slinks

Amongst the ruins,

Trailing around

My pain,

Goading me on,

Mocking me

For my filthy,

Uncouth offence.

~Diksha

The Devil’s Plaything

 

Breathless, I strain

Against the pull of the puppet string –

Trapped, encaged

In the confines of the circus ring.

Like a demonic sadist,

You torture me like a mere plaything.

From one crazy height

To another of insanity you swing.

Flirting with madness,

You revel in your lunatic fling;

Forcing me on the tightrope,

You laugh at how I struggle to cling.

You pull at me harder

Just to relish in how my screams sing,

For I am your puppet

And you, insanity’s best circus king.

~Diksha

 

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A Wintery Walk

 

The rush

Of the winter breeze

Against my cheek,

The thump

Of my cold feet

On the pavement

While my fingers freeze,

A sharp intake

Of breath – the building up

Of a sneeze,

The chills

Of the morning air

Whispering in my ear

Like a mischievous tease.

~Diksha

The Erring (Wo)Man

 

Each of man’s quarrels –

The woman’s fault:

An ageless blame game

That he would not halt.

Battle and bloodshed –

The woman’s fault;

At every turn of the road,

Her honour suffers assault.

Man’s fall from grace –

The woman’s fault;

Of his own superiority

Must fickle man always exalt?

~Diksha

Virgin

 

Butterscotch tresses,

Twinkling eyes,

Succulent breasts

Slowly fall and rise;

Erotic curves,

The swing of her thighs:

The sparkling maiden –

An invaluable prize;

Her form and beauty

Like that of Aphrodite

Enchants all men –

The fool and the wise.

~Diksha

Nostalgia

Relishing

The warmth of my cup

Of coffee and foam,

I sit on the couch

In my lonely house 

And reminisce

The joys of

Home.

~Diksha

Ballerina

 

 

Pirouetting,

Dancing,

Twirling on her toes –

The little girl,

Eyes closed,

Sways to the notes.

Innocent,

Unadulterated,

Incandescent happiness –

Swirling,

Whirling,

A passionate giddiness.

Floating,

Glowing,

Her pure, angelic charm –

Playful,

Graceful,

In her outstretched arm.

~Diksha

Threads

 

Gentle to the touch,

Practically invisible,

They strung us,

You and I, strangely –

In unspeakable bonds,

Created by knots –

A match that was heavenly.

They tangled together

Our shaky fingers,

Tripped us on our

Unsteady toes suddenly

And then as we laughed,

At the coincidence of it all,

Drew us to each other effortlessly.

Like secret strands,

That bound us at birth,

Guiding us down similar paths,

They brought me to you subtly,

And I watched in my wonder

How they made you fall for me

While I fell in love with you slowly.

~Diksha

A Long Day

 

Like clockwork,

I wake at four each night

And lay there, gasping,

Waiting

For that first ray of sunlight.

 

Tired, fatigued,

I slowly rise

To look in the mirror

And tell myself,

It’s going to be all right.

 

I labour through

Another day;

Try harder

And harder still,

Determined, obstinate,

Full of spite,

Refusing to give up

Without a fight.

 

As the evening

Grows darker

And my limbs

Grow weaker

And my heart drowns again

Under waves of fright,

The chances

Grow slimmer

Of even a brief respite.

 

For the day is drawing

To another close

And the moon is rising

To another height

And my hopes of escaping

The darkness in my soul

Are slowly becoming

More and more slight.

 

Now, once again,

I must return to my bed;

Now, once again,

I must face my nightmares;

Now, once again,

I must hope that I win

And be freed

From this eternal plight.

~Diksha