-

The beach you remember how we stayed till twilight one day, just lying in the sand and listening to the tide. You were building a castle while I quoted Eliot to you. It was gibberish yet I poured my soul forth in it, then turning abruptly to Millay. I began "Euclid alone has looked on beauty bare-" then I stopped for I saw the poem

was to a woman.

"Can women love women?" I asked you suddenly.

"Sometimes." You smiled.

"I love you," all at once I heard myself saying, and that first cold flash having pierced my chest, I felt a little braver as I waited for you to speak.

You laughed, a bit embarrased, and patted my hand.

"I love you," you answered, yet it wasn't said in the same way.

"I've loved you since I've known you." It was too late now, I had to say it all. "I know it's wrong, but I want to hold you and kiss you, and I curse myself for not being a boy!" I took your hand then, and kissed your fingertips, tasting the sand and the salt.

You smiled, but it was a grown-up smile, as if you had been my mother, and your hand went over my cheek, caressing it so tenderly, and all at once I found i had brought my lips to yours and had kissed you full on the mouth, hearing you gasp and feeling your body quiver under mine. And then you pressed my head to your breast and kissed my forehead, and all at once I started to cry cry because I didn't know what to do I had you in my arms, and I loved you, and everything seemed all mixed up, and all I could say was "What shall I do?"

And then you sat up, letting me cry on your lap, and I could hear your voice was shaky as you said you didn't know.

And I cried for a while longer, until it was very dark and the wind was growing cold. You put my jacket over me and we got up to leave. All at once I had you in my arms again, kissing you as a boy had once kissed me. I felt you pushing me away, and all at once you tore loose and looked at me in a frightened way, but not frightened of me. "It's not right," you said, "It's not natural!"

And I looked at you and nodded.

We were silent after that, all the way back home, and when we got to my front door you gave me your hand and said good night. It was such a final good night and I knew you'd avoid me at school!

Inside my house I felt cornered, ashamed, sorry that I had ever spoken, beaten, chagrined to tears! I swore I've never speak to you again.

-

Yet now I miss you as I watch the rain wash my window. There is nothing past that window. I'm trapped by the walls around me, trapped by the rain, the sky, the street trapped by the distance between life and death hope and resignation love, sleep, and soul trapped by myself! And always I see your face smiling at me on the pane. I cry out, wanting to smash the window, but when I call your name you turn from me.

I want now so much to die-but I'm afraid to die-so instead I'll be ill-ill for a long time. I shall force myself to think of the school prom and the basketball game, and how I shall refuse to go. When Dad comes home from work he shall find me like this pale, feverish. He shall think I have the grippe a little early in the season. And he'll come and put his hand on my shoulder and say: "What's wrong, Nan?" I will answer:

and

"Nothing, Dad."

Carle

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