prompt #45

[recycledpeace]

I get up, go to make tea, come back
we look at each other
then she says (and this is what I live through
over and over) - she says: I do not know
if sex is an illusion

I do not know
who I was when I did those things
or who I said I was
or whether I willed to feel
what I had read about
or who in fact was there with me
or whether I knew, even then
that there was doubt
about these things -

full poem