Her Name

She has a name and she remembers it at odd times, almost as if it is the name of a stranger, or someone she once met, fleetingly. It feels odd on her lips when she says it out loud to her mirror. She watches the shapes her lips make as the strange sounds form in the air around her. She thinks she must be looking for something, some sign that the words she utters have a meaning special to her, that by saying her name over and over again she can find some familiarity there, something she can holds onto to keep herself from becoming an even deeper mystery to herself.