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Find Myself I had my own ring but on days I’d forget to wear it. You had your own vows but your memory seemed to fail you. You were foreign to me: a frightening foreign, an exciting foreign. Do I know your name? Do I care? Let me just take off my ring, I thought, and put it behind the frame on the dresser where I cannot see it tonight. I was only resigned to the thought: if I forgot myself with you, if I was lost with you, I would only remember again and soon find myself. Copyright Janet Kuypers. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission.