I am a cloud, he said
Lavishly spreading his glee on my windows
No, you are not
I frown and mumble in my chin
You, sir, are a figment of my imagination
Be true to yourself, dear
Your jealousy might change my mood
From fluffy, feathery white I might turn to dark stormy, lightning spitting in a blink of an eye
If I say I am a cloud, then, goddammit
I am
I have all the features
The grace, the plump form, the easiness to glide on the open blue sky
I can smile as easily as I can thunder my curses through my lashes
I definitely spy on you every chance I get
No, no longer I am a god
From now on
you all will treat me as a passing cloud
A midsummer innocent cloud
A light prayer to a merciful sky