The Carnival

The Carnival

The bent photograph is famous to the one who carries it

Crinkling a little more as it is shoved back into his overused wallet.

It is aged by deepening wrinkles and fading from the sun.

He looks at the photograph each morning and every night.

It is his half, the bottom half,

From the photo booth, for it had only printed one.

The bent photograph is famous to the one who carries it

Crinkling a little more as she gently places it back into her new wallet.

It has been straightened over and over, but still continues to crease.

She looks at the photograph whenever she feels lonely and is missing him.

It is her half, the top half,

From the photo booth, for it had only printed one.

He had met her at a carnival last year during the end of summer.

Her springy hair reminded him of his childhood slinky

Her eyes had glowed with the mysteriousness of the moon

As her smile spoke for her since she was too shy for words

She had met him at a carnival last year during the end of summer.

His tightly knit black curls were shaved down to the scalp.

They had shared chili-cheese fries, dropping some on her shirt.

So embarrassed she had been as he handed her some napkins.

A year ago it was today as he stood in the empty lot where it had taken place

He could see the photo booth there on the edge of that carnival

She had pulled his hand begging him for just one.

He couldn’t say no to her, he never would, even if he wanted to.

He slid the crinkled bill into the slot as they went inside sitting side by side on the bench.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and he managed to kiss her cheek.

A year ago it was today, she could vividly see it if she closed her eyes.

The photo booth had been hidden behind the rides,

But she so desperately wanted to capture that night, capture him.

He had kissed her cheek on the first flash and smiled for the second.

She had turned to him on the third and the fourth their lips had touched.

He hadn’t moved, not when the flash went off or when the pictures had fallen out.

They had stayed there in that infinitesimal moment

Of which would imprison their hearts hopelessly longing for a name

It would show what they could not quite grasp that night as it melted away like a helpless ice cube

Causing them to yearn for a photo booth that would dispense only one photo