chameleons

chameleons

shadow dancing

in a pack,

changing 

costumes,

masks,

props,

at will,

but only under the light,

when they can disappear

into those effable skins,

colours they never own,

no backbone,

forever becoming

what they use

to perch,

to prey,

as a mere puppet 

on strings,

dancing with them,

in a trance,

bedazzled by the light,

burning against the veil 

of darkness,

waiting to be lifted

and thrown

into wakefulness
that must be owned.