To Be A Chameleon

Watching a chameleon
unfurl its tongue
to catch a prey,
I never imagined
anything so long.
Afterwards I wondered
if it rolled back
into its body
or lay in a tangled
sticky mess that suffered
being bitten
every now and then.

I thought of the vacuum
whose cable I had never
been able to recoil correctly
and wondered
if the chameleon has
the same problem
of retraction,
what it would be like
to live with a tongue
in your stomach
and revolving eyes
that sweep the horizon
like periscopes.

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