By accident I lose my identity. I touch without trace, speak without words. So far, fuzzy, like a voice that slowly shuts down. And if your voice spoke in the distance, I would take me away in that moment. I am and I'm not, because I quickly ceased to be. My dream is ephemeral, which ignites and dies. I think, doubt, and run away. By accident I lost my identity. I began to cry and I forgot in every tear what I once was. And if time had given me time, I would have wiped out the rest of me. By then my name said nothing, or perhaps never had said, without my perceiving it. The mirror did not answer my questions, and I do not know why. It may not recognize me, if it ever did. It is not easy, or perhaps it never was...