“From skin I speak, without ground I walk
Moral colour? Nothing is ever enough”
Is this all Eddy´s friend once said to me?

And this way it´d be
This way it has been
A bad way to walk on
And a perfect walker on its end
Whose tongue isn´t dry yet

A common good
An answer, hidden underside any sensation
Lacking of any other chance
Apart from his own odd fashion way to dream

“My power?”, he asked
Just like another frank purchase
And there is no time for spittle
Just because “I know I´d live at the end,
And I´ll do it until I die”, he used to say.

Salvador Martín