In the attic of an old house he laid his head across my middle. “I always forget that some houses have attics and then I come here,”. I could smell his cologne, the faded peppermint part that stuck to the collar of his shirts. I was in thrall of him then, or maybe just very aware of the depth to which he’s sown in my life. There was a point where something had shaken free and gone to him. I wanted to say it- I’m in thrall of you- but a sigh came out instead. I touched my socked foot to a beam.

On the last day I reached over a fence to a pair of dark eyed horses and the pale one nuzzled me, its breath tickling my neck and face. I thought I felt its teeth for a moment but I couldn’t be sure. I ate an orange and wiped my hands on the wet grass. I smelled liked that for hours, the mix of citrus and lawn. Cocooned in it. Like a wet garden. My bare knees carried the imprints of leaves.

My Summer is being pretty good to me. I hope I can say the same for you.

(Speaking of skinny dipping, I love this.)

Last week I went to my third yoga class in as many years. It was free (they were having a promotion of some sort) and our teacher, a soft spoken grey haired man, was talking about how certain hip opening poses can make you emotional because they utilize muscles we may not have used in a long time. We cary around our emotions in our hips; I was thinking the illacus or gracillis. I kind of giggled, because I was self-conscious, and “hip opening” at the time sounded unnecessarily graphic. It didn’t seem to make sense. It doesn’t make sense to attach hefty feelings to your pelvic muscles.

But sure enough, when I’d rearranged my limbs, it happened just like that. A rather quiet and bountiful cry; I tucked my chin into my chest as my arms were occupied. My eyes were closed and my mouth was open. I fumbled into savasana and while I was briefly on all fours I instinctively shook my head and upper body a little as though I were a wet dog. My head was soaked with sweat. All of my moving about was magnified because of the wooden floor and the echoey room. I wanted to leave then but I decided to stick it out until the end, peeking discreetly at the person I’d come with when the poses allowed it. Then later, when we all had our legs tucked underneath us and our foreheads nearly kissing the floor, I heard our teacher walking amongst us, touching his hand to our crowns.