An Anticlimax

Satish Verma

Do you share the bed 
with a perceived lover in illicit 

A pink gestation 
of a thought? Hands 
holding a naked truth? 

The winds were harsh, cold 
and persuasive. And lake was 
sending an obscene invitation. 

You were ready to make 
a jump, ending the speculation. 
I speak alone - 

in the arguments with 
sooty bust of the sky. 
Moon has no other name.