Validated

The air in here is thick with exhaust and salt.

I’ve walked past the same silver sedan twice.

My paper badge is peeling off my chest,

a white square that says 'Visitor'

as if I’m just passing through.

I’m looking for a yellow pillar.

The paint is flaking off the '3B'

like a scab you shouldn't touch.

I can't remember where I put the keys.

I’m standing in the dark,

shaking a lanyard and waiting for a beep.