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.
Copyright © Quinn K. | Year Posted 2020
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