"Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two."
-St. Augustine

Identity

“Identity” by Roxanne A. Stokes © 2009

Who is this person?
This woman facing me
Her reflection in the mirror
Looking back at me
Made me do a double take
Thought it was the I that I once knew
But I don’t know her
At least I don’t think I do
Who is this person
Thinking, feeling, speaking, acting?
I don’t recognize her anymore.
But maybe I didn’t know her at all
Or at least not as well
As I thought I did
Looking deep inside
The glass that’s formed the reverse vision
My reflection
Examining who I’ve become
It’s not who I believe I am
It’s not who others say that I am
Only a mere perception
Maybe an illusion,
Who is she?
I want to get to know her.