[Of course it's poetry. He's moved to poetry by his emotions, by beautiful things. Kazuha could find inspiration often, though he also was a appreciator of poetry written by others too, not fancying himself as a decent poet.

It's also a bit of a security blanket for himself; he knows he has made the mood of the occasion more dour by speaking honestly. The samurai also knows that more truth will bring Scaramouche no more peace, but he has to answer him, a moment of hesitation later.]

Diluc. He... well, he confessed his affection for me when I told him I wanted to be with you.

[It's a name that Kazuha has mentioned before-- he'd spoken to Scaramouche about his importance to him as a way to rebuff the other man from plotting violence towards him. The immortal's reaction so far does not build him any confidence that there will be any amnesty between the two.

He keeps petting Scaramouche's back, cuddling him in his lap. It may be a little too coddling, but he doesn't think that is such a bad thing right now. He places a kiss against his hair, cheek bumping against some of the tiny maples.]

I could recite more poetry to you about how food gives me no nourishment, hungry as I am for you. [He laughs, very light. Even he's a little embarrassed at himself.] I have been thinking about this since the gala. I realized I wanted more from you then.