Sometimes I turn myself from flesh to fiction,
becoming a character seen (in my head)
from a story’s point of view, by an omniscient
writer—from outside me, where I picture
I and me as she and her instead.

Mostly, living inside my own first-person
mind is the perspective I prefer;
it’s hard enough to make my biased version
true to the protagonist, and—worse—
I might not find enough to like in her.