When I stepped into the scan-o-rator

I did not know what I should feel

One now, but two would be later,

Could another me be real?

An identical twin appeared on the screen

After a minute or two or five,

We had the same haircut—what could this mean?

Could this me-but-not-me be alive?!

“Hello!” she said as she waived to her twin

Whom I soon realized was me.

I knew at this moment, her new life would begin

And I wouldn’t be there to see.

“Hello,” I replied and she smiled with my smile

And I knew she was thinking the same,

How strange it will be to talk for a while

About who should inherit our name?

I decided to start by playing my part

When I asked, “And what shall we call you?”

After all, I reasoned, I was here at the start,

The other me is the one who is new.

But as I could guess (since we’d had the same mind)

She did not agree with my thought.

“Why should I change my name?” the other me whined.

And the girl on the screen was distraught

“Well you see,” I replied, “I’m made of all the same stuff

that you and I shared for so long.”

“And you,” I explained, “Are made of only new stuff,

so calling you me would be wrong.”

“Why should that matter?” She asked through the screen

“Who cares how a body is made?”

She had a good point. “I see what you mean,

But we still must choose names I’m afraid.”

“Then we’ll both choose new names,” the new me advised,

“For the new people we now have become.”

And that was the time that the old me realized,

That the new me had solved our problem.

“It’s true,” I told her, “I’m a new me as well,

Neither one is the one who began.

So we chose our new names and my twin said farewell!

And I went back in to start the next scan….