He was pale. Opaque,
His skin the color
Of a ghost.
For, that's what he was.
I could see right through him
As he moved in front of me.
He was so close,
Right before my eyes.
I wanted to reach out,
Grab him and pull him close.
I wanted to rest my head
Over his exposed chest.
I could see his heart beating
Behind his clear, glass, translucent shell.
For a moment,
He was still alive;
Until I reached
For his hand,
And couldn't feel his wrinkled grasp.