You – a poem

You

 

You are not you, you

Who I thought I knew

 

Silent-tongue chameleon

Far in some exotic clime

 

I cannot puppet you, I cannot

Picture your mime

 

A sketch hovers

Lifeless over easel

 

You and I are something

Out of Dada

An impression, impossible

where fingers once lay

 

A cold vice seals me off.

No more we, for me

I shall be in an upright

Black I cannot change

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