No cheap candles,
no flowers, no chocolates,
just a chameleon perched
on a rock, its colors
sometimes bright and sometimes dark,
watching a blind man
picking a thinly-disguised dagger
and, thinking it to be a boomerang,
throwing it in the air.
it won’t return, of course,
but the thought of losing it
will come back to hurt him,
stabbing him worse than any dagger can.
