The chameleon swallowed hard.
Its tongue: hungry and burnt.
Feelings? A privilege of others.

Eyes wide open,
patiently waiting
for the flickering chance.

Who understands nature, unfiltered?
Too painful, without some sweet utopian IF
Nobody understands the vivid mortal chain.

What’s happening in his mind?
The heart - a precise mechanism
clicking down his time to the end.

Changing colors, matching seamlessly—
And what if the only help is calling?
No! Showing his tongue,
he just wants to catch a fly,
sticking her body to his hard palate.
Protein is so good for living.

But she? Her end makes sense
if we observe patterns.
Nobody notices – nobody’s fault.

Can we be a ripe orange
with green leaves untouched?
Or do we become a passing flavor
for other dining creatures chewing us,
without deeper reflection.