The Student News Site of Enloe Magnet High School

Enloe Eagle's Eye

The Student News Site of Enloe Magnet High School

Enloe Eagle's Eye

The Student News Site of Enloe Magnet High School

Enloe Eagle's Eye

Angel Kisses

Angel Kisses

As I curl a strand of hair around a finger,

I feel the dam break.

The water knows it can leave,

and a wave forms.

It crests, and I can’t breathe, I can’t speak,

I don’t want to be swallowed by the salt.

Swimming through the overwhelming current 

would be to paint my skin in shades of the aching 

that my dam held in two palms. 


I watch the wave tower,

foaming and unrelenting and honest, 

and I wait for it to crash. 

But I feel my feet dig into sand,

and the wave becomes the tide. 

It washes over my feet, covering my ankles in salt, 

the kind of itch only an outdoor shower can cure. 


I let the sun warm my skin as I lay on the sand,

digging my fingers into its warm hold.

I feel freckles form on my shoulders and my legs and my arms, 

angel kisses of forgiveness, of second chances, of innocence.

My little brother rubs sand over my back,

laughs when I tickle him, and gets quiet when I ask if he’s happy. 


I build my dam back up with sand shovels and buckets, 

and he helps me build it. 

A living reminder that to let the wave take me 

would be to hurt the hand that I hold in every parking lot. 

He drags me to the water, and I falter,  

remembering he doesn’t know how to swim.

But I grew tall so I could carry him. 

I put him on my shoulders as fish bite my feet,

and he opens his arms to the sky, 

a sponge soaking up the world’s greatness. 

He is wide-eyed, and I watch angels kiss his face,

his freckles starting to resemble the pattern of mine. 

Perhaps the water’s vast expanse is an endless possibility. 


I take him to the dunes, 

and we watch a seagull scavenge,

hungry for the sandwiches our mother packed. 

I shade him with an umbrella and trace constellations over his skin,

wishing I could keep him all to myself. 


I send him to run through the tide, 

laughing with his newfound companion,

a scavenging seagull who found kindness in a little boy. 

The seagull will take my brother’s sandwich, 

and I will shoo it away, 

mourning the kindness my brother will now be hesitant to give. 

I will take him home, rinse him with the hose, 

and teach him how to make his own meal. 


I will build my sandcastle dam,

and when my scalp starts to bleed, and my nails are ripped to the beds, 

I will watch the wave crest and wait on the shore,

toes in the sand, 

and his hand in mine. 

And in that moment, 

I will turn my face towards the sun

and let the tide rush over my feet. 

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About the Contributor
Kelley Calvillo
Kelley Calvillo, Opinion and Creative Writing Editor
(She/her) Kelley Calvillo is so excited to return to Newspaper, this year as Opinion and Creative Writing Co-Editor. Outside of newspaper, she is a member of Enloe Dance Ensemble and President of the Butterfly Effect Club. When not writing or in the dance studio, you can find Kelley eating fruit, telling super funny jokes, or watching teeny bopper romance movies.
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