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

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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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