Today, this day was a brimming cup,
today, this day was the immense wave,
today, it was all the earth.

Today the stormy sea
lifted us in a kiss
so high that we trembled
in a lightning flash
and, tied, we went down
to sink without untwining.

Today our bodies became vast,
they grew to the edge of the world
and rolled melting
into a single drop
of wax or meteor.

Last night, E took me to the state fair and we saw all the livestock (I even petted a sheep and a pig) and ate Guernsey ice cream and went on a handful of rides - the tilt-a-whirl (this photo is a before/after for that one), the Ferris wheel, I even got him to go down the fun slide with me. He won me a tiny toy horse playing carnival games, which we have named Li’l Sebastian for obvious reasons. It was just. so. good. And the whole time, but especially at the top of the Ferris wheel, looking at the yellow moon above the vacant lot next to us, and especially in the car on the way home, windows down and catching a glance of my face in the mirror, I was so struck: thinking about the last time I’d been to a fair like that, probably my freshman year of high school; remembering how it felt back then, how it feels now. Looking at my face in the rear view, I had the odd feeling of being someone younger, of connecting to the version of myself I was back then in a way that wasn’t regressive, just made me feel coherent. I am the same person who got a first kiss behind a catholic school and hid from her parents when it was time to go; I’m the same girl and look how far I’ve come. I’m driving in the moonlight with the windows down, singing along to Tom Petty with the man I love desperately, with the man who takes my cracked pieces and holds them tenderly, holds me together. I am hurtling down a back road at the far edge of summer and for once in my life (for one time of many times, with E) I feel I am exactly where I belong.

Last night, E took me to the state fair and we saw all the livestock (I even petted a sheep and a pig) and ate Guernsey ice cream and went on a handful of rides - the tilt-a-whirl (this photo is a before/after for that one), the Ferris wheel, I even got him to go down the fun slide with me. He won me a tiny toy horse playing carnival games, which we have named Li’l Sebastian for obvious reasons. It was just. so. good. And the whole time, but especially at the top of the Ferris wheel, looking at the yellow moon above the vacant lot next to us, and especially in the car on the way home, windows down and catching a glance of my face in the mirror, I was so struck: thinking about the last time I’d been to a fair like that, probably my freshman year of high school; remembering how it felt back then, how it feels now. Looking at my face in the rear view, I had the odd feeling of being someone younger, of connecting to the version of myself I was back then in a way that wasn’t regressive, just made me feel coherent. I am the same person who got a first kiss behind a catholic school and hid from her parents when it was time to go; I’m the same girl and look how far I’ve come. I’m driving in the moonlight with the windows down, singing along to Tom Petty with the man I love desperately, with the man who takes my cracked pieces and holds them tenderly, holds me together. I am hurtling down a back road at the far edge of summer and for once in my life (for one time of many times, with E) I feel I am exactly where I belong.