Identity
Kyra Jucovy
kjucovy1@swarthmore.edu

If you were me,

I would still be the sort of person who stares up at the stars

And does not so much wonder as accept, or even revel.

If you were me,

I would still love cats, I'm sure,

And spend hours sitting in soft chairs feeling fur through my fingers.

I would still sometimes just look at the moon

For no reason, except maybe to say yes.

I would still be so tempted to dip forever into water,

And my mind would still be filled by oceans,

And I would still remember looking out at them and weeping.

I think I would even still love some of the same books.

If you were me, also,

I'd be no more nor less confused about love,

And what it means,

And whom it's for,

And how you can tell it apart from everything else.

And I'd still take pleasure from being outside people -

In fact, my pleasure in that would only increase,

Because I'd actually have intentions I could play with.

And I'd still be funny,

Even if my sense of humor would take more from other people.

All in all, all I'd lose to you is snippets of identity,

Like the barest bones of humanity,

Or the disguised purposelessness that tears away my center.

All in all,

If you were me,

I don't even know if I'd notice.

Author's Note: Yes, I wrote this about Miang. All grammatical errors are intentional. Even the ones I didn't notice :).