Hey people! A long time back, I and my terribly frightening and overly desperate, yet very talented friend, Ashima Khanna, decided to collaborate for a poem, the characters we narrate are who we are beneath our skins. We hope you feel and enjoy!

March’s narration is by me, and August’s is by her!

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Gray solemn dooms the white skies as march and august struggle to catch a breath…
Their intertwined bodies know no cold, as blossoms and madness behold.
A dilemma cuts the night through,
as March’s LOVE and August’s LUST tussle once again..

*March picks wears his shorts and leans on the adjacent sofa, confused*

March:
“Is it my naked body, or my naked soul, you dream,
Is it the butterflies I give you, or those bedroom screams?
Is it that you’re still inspiring me to be a better writer, with your, oh so brutal, but oh so beautiful means?”

*August still laying on the bed, lights a cigarette*

August :
“Oh dear lord, honey! Give me a break,
My wine goes down slower when your emotions sway;
Searching you down in my erotica, I know its a sin;
Don’t want you to feel my heart, just my skin.”

*March takes the cigarette in his hands*

*takes a long inhale*

March:
“You’re the repentance of my past blunders darling, what could go wrong?
I still wanna live and die with you, and in the grave, sing happily the death song.
As I try to embrace in my eyes, your fingers, with greed, touch me twice. And oh, I still wonder if,
If you wanna be my drunken chants?
Or just wanna be caged forever in my pants?”

*August stares at him angrily*

August :
“Are you this notorious, this ruthlessly vile?
That you’re dragging me down all the way with you to burn in your love’s aisle!
This thought of self sabotaging seems to you so nice,
Until one of cries to death and one of us is dying to cry.”

* walks up to him and plants a kiss on his mouth*

“Let me touch you like a nightingale’s song,
Let me hurt you, and pretends nothing is wrong;
Cause I crave for you to fuck me, you’re my machine, You are just dirty my love, but my soul lies unclean.”

*March gently pushes her away*

March:
“But then, what about me dying in your arms? And what about me dedicating my life to you? What about the giggles we have? And what about the torment I feel when you’re not here.
Is it all just sex?
Is it all fake?
I need answers,
For I have not been able to sleep.
I need answers, as I gulp in these confusions’s heap..
I need answers as Its killing me now and then
I need answers,
As my soul has been so restless,
I need answers,
As nostalgia of us, not in our bedroom,
Looks only a delusion now. But you have faked it so well,
God knows how?”

*August runs down a finger on him*

August:
“Never faked a moan for you, never faked a smile;
Don’t make me the judge of my own pride,
Stop and look me into the eye,
Can’t you see your fingers rejoice my Aphrodite?
When you intonate my name, under my breathe, all revived
Isn’t this enough for our passion to survive?”

*March clutches and ceases the movement of the finger*

March:
“But I hate the fact that it’s so raw from your side,
While, there’s unlimited feelings, That i don’t intend to hide.
The way you enunciate my name, and the way you rescue from my catastrophe, you and your touch are the same.”

August:
“Your ambition lies in love, mine in lust,
Will this ever set us free?;
The only souvenir of our love that remains,
Will be in your room, our cum soaked bedsheets.”

March:
“These sugar coated bedsheets of ours,
might never want to get rid of our hazards,
As they lie, beneath me,
I suppose,
Even they admire your beauty and if only they reflect perfectly my mind’s chaos.”

Both silent, as rain creates havocs outside, much similar to what was happening on their inside….

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