I applied for a new passport today.
Took my photo at the booth.
Snap. Poker face.
I remember the last one: soft violet jumper
Plastic beads around the neck.
It is definitely me: the same worried face,
Misleading turned down mouth and big eyes
Veiling carefree, happy thoughts.
It is definitely me, but I don't know her
The years between us erase tears
And smiles, and passions.
I don't know what she is thinking.
I have to slouch now, to help the camera find my face.
This booth is too small.
I am too big.
With disgruntled whirrs and clunks
It spits out my new portrait: Crinkled brown top
Gold embroidery round the neck.
I picture another me, ten years on
Flying through a transient cloudscape
Lost in a world I cannot imagine.
I picture her looking at her passport, wondering...
What was she thinking?

