The chameleon without a soul

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Phoenix Poetry

Submitted: January 08, 2017

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Submitted: January 08, 2017




I have met many of the same minds


But to speak -and soak this ink within sponge-


Of such would disgrace these colours


And turn my flesh, embroided with dexterity, into a shroud;


I converse with fondness and swing from tendons


That latch perfectly onto those who sketch me within 


The blackness of their eyes;


Weighing the tightness of all thoughts upon my skin,


Would be to stain all teeth that reflect rays


Without judgement or confusion;


I paint ancient invisibility, the wind my reflection


For my colours are none and all


And the colour of your eyes bathe 


In the liquid that I wear


Dried with the truth that makes me


The Chameleon without a soul.

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