to re-create

It is odd to remake my own name, to give my adventures in life a different ring. It is gossip say the men in tights who sway from trees hearing my own self satisfaction into the meaningless. It is what we all wish we were, will say the models in paper cuts outs waiting to be explained as beautiful. It is selfish will say those who can't love women. and I sit in  this pool of thoughs, drenching my toes in other's perspectives, trying so hard to see the opposite horizions on a piece of flat earth. I am squinting through a gate, to find a different collective voice, but all I hear is the pressure of water running through the pipes below me.