I was looking for a rubber band in the junk

I was looking for a rubber band in the junk

and found this glossy square of 4x6 shame.

It’s the summer I tried to be the person

who didn't mind the heat or the family name.

I’m caught in a forced, painful squint,

my eyes squeezed shut against the direct glare.

The sun has washed the features from my face

and turned the humidity into my hair.

I look like a stranger being questioned,

or a body waiting for the tide to go out.

I shoved it back under the dead batteries,

where the dark can finally remove any doubt.