With nowhere else to go,

we invaded the silent  beach.

Mussing her hair and stepping on her toes,

we disregarded her hibernation.

Spiders crawling with thousands of legs.

Like children we danced in circles

and played in the sand,

writing our new names with our fingers.

Girls braided each others’ hair

when no one was looking,

grimacing at each swig of stale beer.

Boys, paper men, wrestled

and tossed their unbreakable bodies onto the hard ground.

Turning my back on drunk stranger-friends,

the ocean called my name

and I left the writhing circus behind me.

Sneakers and white socks discarded,

my pink toes sank, hidden, under the nibbling sand blanket.

I walked toward the choppy night water and

sat close to the shore,

the damp earth soaking into my jeans.

I couldn’t see any stars.

The bonfires and cigarette lighters

warmed the winters at the beach

and scared away the moon.

Behind me,

teenagers screamed I Love You’s

and kicked up dark sand with their heels.

I sat on the cold beach,

the wet sand grinding between my toes.

I wore big clothes then,

my skinny arms seemingly unnoticed under acres of fabric.

My hair flew wildly around my head,

whipping my face and making my eyes water.

I closed my eyes and listened to the ocean.

She churned out a lonely song,

and I listened with the empathetic ears of a sister.

Even with my eyes closed, you saw me.

Even hidden behind a red lipstick mask

with a hood over my heavy head.

You sat down, uninvited, on the cold beach,

shivering as the black waves crashed at your feet,

licking your heels with icy tongues.

I lit a cigarette with darting eyes and shaking fingers.

I blew smoke out of my nose,

the way I had seen my mother do,

and rolled my eyes at you.

Writing out the math equation I was taught,

reciting the lines I had studied.

Yet under my frigid glance,

you didn’t run away, cold and rejected.

You only stared, unblinking, at the black waves,

which had started to calm,

and took my red hand in yours.

You finally looked at me, your eyes bottomless.

And I knew you.

Kate Seltzer is a Junior from the George Washington University majoring in English and minoring in Women's Studies.  She had been involved in several creative writing workshops at GW and works on staff as an editor for Mortar and Pestle.