You are on the bench in the garden with a cup of tea and a book
Your book is face-up on the table breathing as you pause
A slight lumbering movement near you
Oh look, an ancient reptilian shape on your book
Oh look, it is the same creamy colour as the pages
A chameleon has absorbed your book.
Are its words ingested into stealth of scales
Thinned into cold-blooded stream?
Lecturer in English Education
Johannesburg, South Africa