Made of air

Invisible almost imperceptible intangible and solitary,
once, I saw a man made of air. His complexion was diffuse,
he was just perfused, by monarchs, lilies, trees, grass, and the noise of his muses.
beautiful by his own identity, sustained by his essence.

Ephemeral and timeless he used to walk without any shadow,
embroiled on his own meadow looses its air with every step,
singing this song with every leaf over the abysmal edge of his thoughts.

Once I saw a man made of air. With bright eyes and beautiful hair,
with white wings made of wind tethered with wine left to the wave,
Swinging his hair with light steps. He used to leave a pace of no regret.
A pace that as a Monet can only be perceived with a bottle of cabernet.

Once I saw a handsome man with no regrets, powerful evil and envious,
as ignorant as his handsomeness, glittering in gold, and jealous of the ghost,
who had an affair with his forced love.

Once I heard he will own the ghost powers so he could sneak her room,
and reenact the ghost and make it to her during a dark night.
And he did it. The handsome glittering in gold inhaled the ghost,
with the hope to empower his properties at the most;
Made of air with no regrets, clear as the sky, beautiful as life,
pale and young, and full of joy.

Once I saw the handsome guy swallowing the ghost,
Poor guy I said!. Now he will become a simple ghost,
made of air, full of nothing and plenty of regrets.



Andrés