Amidst a raucous background, I blend myself
by Zoe Nyght
with the noise
as a chameleon does.
I crawl through pulsing colors on painted walls,
with technical ease.
The next time, though, I am quiet, and colorless
Locked in place
sweat forms on my frantic lip as
I am smeared against the vibrant
stark-naked, the only thing I have to offer is my own
reflective in the light.
(This is supposed to be aligned in the middle. This is not its true form.)