Headdress Masquerade

She gave me her palm not her hand still her hand that I ran with in a plan to detract, a synonym with anonymity, and I put her your palm between fingers of a blind telepath, tell me what you’re thinking, thinking, there in the warm ocean not an ocean a bath, she tells me, her a silly headdress spying like the CIA or rather a spider monkey, she clings peers into your kaleidoscope skin put the image back together for me, it’s always missing your palm.