The Chameleon

My foot falls onto floorboards Footfalls on the floor of my new home. In its largest chamber, I settle down Setting up bedding of twigs and downy feathers Of lint from cozy woolen sweaters, Sitting down. A debt, to be repaid later Lay in wake for me elsewhere, I feel its breath in my head, sucking in air, for my skull to implode, it spoke: "You've got, you've got, nothing, you've got, you've got, to settle up." Instead, I avoid its vacuum And find my skin change to the tone of the piece, Eyes crossed, I melt into the walls of its chambers, softly beating fast quickly, ah, at last. I lose myself in others' hearts, For I change my patterns to their matters, my brain directed elsewhere, an arrow of love, of cupid, stupid. I can't find my hands no more, I can't see my reflection, only dots where my eyes were. blinking into minus signs, a toll, a debit, bit by bit, I disappear. I am a concept of I. I am chameleon.