Different City

This person looks like someone who traveled somewhere.

Someone with a different haircut, living in a different city.

I'm holding a document that proves they existed.

The expiration date is three years from now.

That means I have three more years

to become whoever is in this photo,

or accept that I already left them behind.

The photo is small. The light is harsh.

My eyes are looking at something off-camera,

as if even then I was already leaving.

I'm packing this in a box with books I haven't read

and clothes I'm not sure fit anymore.

Moving out of a place I've lived for four years,

and I don't recognize the person taking the boxes down the stairs.