TOELESS FEAR

The name calls the name 
spraying the moon with red colour. 
It touches a nerve, when there is 
standoff on the lake. 

A blueish eye invades an iron space 
between near solids of docks. 
The gap was widening and 
the thoughts had a dead punctuation. 

The fake and madeup story sit 
on my breast. I go for the nakedness 
of real thing. A mediocre cool burns 
the skill of swans. Waves collapse. 

That body was not mine. I lived 
in many souls. Invisible floats 
my grief in embryo of the 
unborn child.

Satish Verma