Valid

The blue booklet was wedged behind the W-2s.

I haven't crossed a border in a thousand days.

There is a gummy square on page ten,

the residue of a visa I had to peel off

when the government changed its mind.

It’s sticky with the dust of the drawer.

I touch it and remember the humidity

of a terminal in July,

waiting for a stamp to tell me

where I was allowed to stand.