Except Camouflaged

Except in camouflage, I share nothing,
wittingly or unwittingly,
there is hidden art underneath my art,
a wily tailor with frantic stitches

he mars and he mends, makes sudden costumes
and then changes fabrics, recalls designs 
that he has only just found and revealed,
he spoils, spurns, defiles as he decorates

against him and with him, I am helpless,
…