Do we have to revisit
my childhood photos?
The photos I took
before
I had braces?
Knew that hair products existed?
Discovered good makeup
and good application skills?
Do we have to revisit
my yearbook photos?
A time marked by
schoolmates
bullying me for my
jagged teeth,
frizzy hair,
and awkwardness?
Do we have to revisit
my family photos?
The photos I took
with my physically present
yet
emotionally absent father?
Photos of me
in my childhood home
where I grew up as
an
only
child,
the
only
resident in my world
and in this world?
Do we have to revisit
those photos —
no, because now I destroy them.
They are but shreds of gloss.
But where was the
gloss
in any of the memories
the photos represented?