The pacific kisses the sand
/Kay Lee
my aunt has many treasured memories
that she never fails to tell me, eyes crinkled
in corners
fingers pinching skin gently with
an age-old fondness.
one of such, she says
with a measured glee,
is one of ten years ago as
my uncle sat with a new
speaker, a saxophone blaring
through the halls-
the low
thrum of jazz twirling through
the walls to grip my small hand-
guiding me into a waltz
across my pororo
baby mat.
i remember long car rides through
winding california highways the
tide kissing the sand with a quiet
rhythm as
ed
sheeran belts a high note
against the leather of the backseat-
half-mumbled lyrics tumbling out of
sleepy lips and into strands of hair
whipping in the salty wind and out
into the embrace of california-sun,
the cold touch of the
pacific.
i remember listening to
coldplay start the drums,
guitar taking the stage to
divebomb through the clouds-
and the plane hummed a lullaby;
something low and droning
against the melody of a child’s wail
and the chatter of the flight
attendants
for some reason i can’t explain once you
go there was
never...
my mother snores next to me,
and the guitar picks up as i wave
goodbye to the california
sea. (it does not wave back.)
japanese and korean drift
through song-
i remember writing
english-fied lyrics on the palms of
my hands on
the sides of math textbooks-
writing
yumenaraba dorehodo
yokatta
deshou
rolling unfamiliar syllables across
my tongue until
letters sound like
words sound like
lyrics that i never bother
to understand but in
half-sewn sentences winding together
far too late;
wouldn’t--- be better--- if---
was--
a dream?
missing california-sun weighs
like an ache
but perhaps someday i will
understand the
letters-words-lyrics
that i write in fading ink
on the wide expanse of my too-tan
skin.
the guitar drums again-again-again
but i am not ten- not
anymore- and it
bangs against the too-tired edges
of my brain, drowning out
thoughts and so i
pause and i tell it
thank you
and
goodbye
in the same breath
and i listen to the silence echo before
my skull can shatter and
my heart beats hard enough to
break my ribs.
the silence holds my hand
and it does not try to
lead me or
bring me into dance.
it
stands with unblinking eyes and
breathes next to me-
-and it lasts until it
doesn’t until
the silence
arranges my bones in
hollow space between
burnt stars so
i find small gems in between
the cracks of famous singers-
aching songs that
slip through fame-
are you lonely?
they ask me,
if you’re lonely come be
lonely with
me
they say, and
they play the guitar but it
thrums like the quiet kiss
of the lips of the pacific against
the sand,
the touch of california-sun against
skin,
the fading sounds of
a lone saxophone
drifting like a ghost through
empty halls.
ultimately
i believe we’ll be
okay…
they take my hand,
they do not dance,
do not simply stand,
but instead they take my hand
and gently,
they tug me
home.
Kay Lee is a tenth-grader attending Korea International School in Seoul, South Korea. She is currently putting together her writing portfolio and was recently accepted into Juniper's Young Writers Program.
