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Who’s Running the Show?

Slipping, falling
backward, with a snap
in my head I fall

into another space,
escape this supremist,
chauvinistic reality, into
a comfortable body,

a subtle shadow cast
in a direction
you cannot point
to: the other inside,

a parallel within,
not like bones
and body organs
but within, inside,

in the sense of mind,
an alternate reality
of thoughts, emotions,
memories, dreams,
imagination…

I feel you there.

I should be king here,
a god in his own world.
Who’s running the show?

Are you just
another part of me?

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