sometimes i lose track of myself between the images,
the pages of magazines,
the flickering rectangles of film,
the point where sounds blend together.
i try to squeeze my way through this space
without leaving myself behind.
i don’t want to be moulded after another.
but i am
caught in the dichotomy between self and other
without a boundary that i can touch.
i can’t even hold myself together without
words and culture to wrap around me.
colorfully, fashionably hidden
like a chameleon.
1998