The Descendants

When friends meet as lovers
They’re like strangers in auld playhouses.
They deceive themselves into gay pseudo-fictions,
Into giddy delights of their pathetic contours, and
Luxuriously riot in the elegant scenes of the
Male-female puzzle, childishly clipping their own
Wings when they’re free to soar!

The long lost battle of love finds its victory at last
In this friendly lust, that neither devours nor sets free
The pulsating excitement of the skin’s mute hungers…
It clings like the passion of a python, now halting in
Chocolate houses, now consuming on benches in the park,
Repeating and repeating the same clichéd dream
Of dying in one another’s arms!

With heavy breaths and still heavier souls they
Eventually carry the pride of their bodies to beds,
Only to wake up in the morning with their backs facing
The smothered pride of their guilty visages.
Ah! Long live these descendants of sex and their
Haunting requiem for an otherwise beautiful relationship!


Now Playing:: Sheeshe ke gharon mein.................Kishore