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The Pink Silk and The Black Vine

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Upon the bed where shadows creep, Two lovers dance in rhythmic sleep. The red wine spills upon the sheets, A crimson stain, a secret meets. Raji lies, her bun of hair, Her pink T-shirt, soft and bare. The blue jeans hang at her waist, With Nil’s eyes, she is obsessed. He is a storm, he is the night, His shirt unbuttoned, sleeve in sight. The veins on Nil’s darkened arm, Lead down to where his darkness charm. Six inches hard, a weapon deep, With Nil’s thrust, she starts to weep. The veins prominent on skin, Like rivers of the dark within. A silk blindfold over her eyes, To leave her in a hazed surprise. She cannot see, she cannot know, What Nil intends for her to sow. She feels his hands, she feels his touch, A sudden rush, a ravenous clutch. A vibrator hums against her clits, A buzzing wave, a hazy fits. She rubs it hard, she rubs it long, For sixty minutes, she is strong. But Nil commands, he takes control, Making her scream, making her whole. He grabs her neck, he grips it tight, A p...
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Where the Thunder Strikes

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Forty-second floor, window walls black as pitch, Outside the storm rages, a violent bitch. Lightning cracks, illuminating our stage, On this bed of purple velvet, locked in a cage. My six-foot frame towers over your slight form, Five-foot-four of trembling flesh, safe from the storm. But not from me. Not from the hurricane in my veins, Not from the fucking punishment that reigns. The first thunderclap, a deafening roar, I grab a fistful of your hair, slam you to the floor. No, not the floor, face down on the plush bed, "Ass up, you fucking whore," is all I've said. Your cunt is dripping, soaking through your lace, A desperate, slutty puddle all over the place. I tear the panties off, they rip like cheap cloth, Expose your swollen lips, I'll have them both. My dick is iron, veined and thick with rage, Ready to defile you, turn the page. I spread your ass cheeks wide, spit right on your hole, Then plunge my cock inside, to take control. The second boom of thunder shakes...
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A River That Learned Our Names

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At Howrah’s rush, beneath iron breath and steam, I saw her first—my future, clear as dream. Time froze once, then shattered in a run, I reached her breathless, two hearts beating one. Her glasses caught the station’s yellow glow, My arms found home before my mind said so. Crowds dissolved, the platform slipped away, When I hugged her like I’d waited every day. From Howrah Ghat we crossed the river wide, The ferry hummed while Kolkata sighed. I took her bag, too heavy for her frame, Gave her mine—love learns sharing before its name. I held her close the whole slow-moving ride, Cold breeze kissed us, city lights replied. My lips met her forehead, soft and still, Hands entwined—time bent to our will. The Ganga shimmered, silver, deep, and true, “I love you” floated—me to her, her to me too. She fed me momos, laughter in her eyes, Simple food, holy hands, sweetest prize. At Bagbazar Ghat, a lone lamp stood, Witness to lips that finally understood. One kiss—gentle, shaking, perfectly right,...
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শিশিরে পুড়ে যাওয়া স্মৃতি

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মেঘের ভাঁজে ভাঁজে আটকে থাকে তোমার নামের নীল রোদ, দিনগুলো ধীরে হাঁটে চায়ের ধোঁয়ার ভেতর দিয়ে— যেখানে দু’জনের নীরবতা একসময় কথা বলতে শিখেছিল। ফেলে আসা স্পর্শগুলো এখনো জানালার ধারে বসে, মলিন নয়— শুধু সময়ের ধুলো লেগে আছে। হিসেব কষলে আজও গরমিল হয়, কে কাকে বেশি চেয়েছিল। যদি হঠাৎ আবার দেখা হয়ে যায়, ভুলে যেও না সেই অসমাপ্ত বিকেল, যেখানে অভিমান ছিল কিন্তু বিদায় লেখা হয়নি। আমি আজও দাঁড়িয়ে আছি একই প্রশ্নের পাশে— তুমি কি আমাকে চিনতে পারবে? জানি, তুমি এখন অন্য কারো স্বপ্নে, আর আমি দিশাহীন এক সুর— যার ঠিকানা নেই, তবু বাতাসে ভেসে বেড়ায়। মনখারাপের সুর মিশে গেছে দূরের ট্রেনের শব্দে, শুনতে পাও কি না জানি না, কিন্তু কবিতাটা এখনো তোমার জন্যই। শীতের কুয়াশায় লুকিয়ে রাখি ভেজা দু’চোখ, মুছে যাওয়া গল্পগুলো শিশির হয়ে ঝরে পড়ে রাতে। জমে থাকা কষ্টেরা আজ আর ভারী নয়— প্রেম হয়ে ধীরে ধীরে ফিরে যেতে চায়। যদি আবার দেখা হয় তোমার আর আমার, মনে রেখো— ভাঙা গল্পের মধ্যেও কিছু কবিতা  চিরকাল বেঁচে থাকে। © NILOY SHOUVIC ROY
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The Devil's Retribution

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In ashes of the love I knew,  a darker purpose took its hold,  betrayed by vows that weren't true,  I'd claim the hearts, both brave and bold. Each cheating woman brought to me,  would learn the price of their deceit,  in darkness they would come to see,  the pleasure found in my complete defeat. The first, a banker's polished wife,  who seduced her broker for the trade,  now knelt before me, stripped of life,  as my sadistic plans were made. "Your spreadsheets mean nothing here,"  I snarled, forcing her to bend,  "I'll chart your pain, your fear, your tear,"  as I my dark revenge would send. Her arse, so tight, so unprepared,  I took without a single care,  as she bent over, legs quite bared,  her screams of anguish filled the air. My hands, like claws, dug in her scalp,  as I forced deeper, claimed her whole,  her expensive haircut now a mess,  her dignity lost to my control. Her tits, I slapped ...
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A Stranger’s Claim

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The blindfold was my canvas, her fear, my art. I tied the silk, a promise from the start. No past, no name, just skin and trembling breath, A soul to conquer, walking close to death. "Zara Zara" sighed, a lover's soft lament, A perfect irony for the night I'd rent Her body out to pleasure and to pain, To wash her clean in decadent, warm rain. I watched her shiver, every nerve alight, A perfect sacrifice on velvet night. Her skin, a map of unexplored desire, I was the flame to set her soul on fire. I poured the wine, a river, dark and deep, Above her throat, a secret I would keep. It flowed like blood, a sacramental stain, As her soft whimpers washed away her pain. I followed it, my tongue a slow, wet trace, The salt of her, the vintage's sweet embrace. She arched her back, a silent, pleading bow, And offered me her body, here and now. But that was just a prelude, just a taste, Of all the dark and dirty things I faced. I poured again, a lower, bolder stream, To vio...
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“The Sunset Is Beautiful, Isn’t It?“

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I didn’t know we’d drift so far, Two souls once close, now shattered stars. I never saw the silence come, Till love grew cold, and we grew numb. We built so much, but walls stood tall, And in the end, they watched us fall. Our final fight, no swords, no cries— Just broken dreams and last goodbyes. I thought that storms could never part The way you curled into my heart. Whatever came, I'd hold your hand, Together still—was all I planned. But fate, it seems, just played pretend, And love ran dry before the end. The words you said still haunt my head, Like echoes from a life now dead: “The universe is false,” you said, “It never meant the paths we tread. The fate rope lied, and love’s not true— It wasn't real, not me, not you.” You broke me then, without a scream, Shattered the last of every dream. But still I smiled, I wore the pain— Like dancing in a downpour rain. It’s okay, my love. I’ll be just fine, I'll bleed in prose and drown in rhyme. No more to beg, no more to say, ...
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