My hearse

I don’t know where I am
sailing, am I swimming in the 
various parts of my body, or in 
the parts of speech I read, write, 
or say, am I in my successes, or
in my failures, am I drowned in
the role I play; is it in the position
I find myself, or in the palace, or in
the hut I call my own, I do not know
where I stand; with my mask on, I am 
rehearsing the same script over and 
over again, I am navigating with the 
same props which I know will let me 
settle down, I may not be able to move
up, I remain in the dark, waiting, without
knowing, what pleasures await me on the 
other side of the night; for now, I dread 
the arrival of my hearse.