What Came Off

I found it while looking for something else—

a photo from that summer, my back

to whoever was taking it, the shoulders

already starting to crack.

You can see the blisters forming

along the shoulder blade on the right.

The location tag says a parking lot.

I drive past it every night

on the way home and think of nothing.

I've thought of nothing there for years.

The skin in the photo is already doing

what skin does when it adheres

to its own limit. Two days later

I peeled it off in one long strip.

The new skin underneath: too pink,

too tight—a badly taken grip

on the body it was replacing.

I sat in the car on the way home

with my back off the seat, the AC going.

I don't remember the drive. Just the foam

of the seat I couldn't lean on.

The parking lot I pass at night.

The shoulder in the photo.

The summer. The light.