we rode our bikes
down the beach, tan and
bruised on the knees

and on soft sand
i didn't stick,

i was strong
for the first time
in my life.

we passed
the fences

and we passed
the rocks

and we passed
the small children
growing red as poppies,

hope pouring from
their sandy hands.

and we didn't turn back
until we reached
the biggest
wet black rock
like an oil stain
on the horizon,

and we didn't turn back
until sunset and the ocean
grew purple and long

and we watched the water
move and crash,

legs hanging over
the sides of our seats.

and the soft sand
grew dark
and untouchable.

i was strong
for the first time
in my life,

i was strong.

we rode our bikes
down the beach, tan and
far past the trees

down to where we belong.