The Chameleon

One last time
He stared at me
And suddenly disappeared
“I have no disguise left
And there is
No real me to appear”
The chameleon said

“Meet me once again
Meet me in the newspaper”
The ink faded
Without his breath turned up

He perfectly understood
Every picture
Is a hideous place
Would he know
Who he ever was
Or will be anytime?

He never escaped
His crucified dreams
The moon prohibited it
His escape – nowhere to be seen –
Leads him to backroom love

The clouds fear him
As the clear statue
Of his loss
He stared at the sun
clear statue of marvel
and stems: “there is no real me”