Mina Lee

United States

Just a dreamer with too many metaphors.

Message to Readers

I don't really have a more appropriate title for this at the moment, so if anyone has any suggestions, I would love to hear them :)

I took the prompt quite literally, and wanted to see how it turned out. This is a very rough first draft. Let me know if anyone has any ideas!


August 24, 2015

PROMPT: The Unknown

    I don't know the smell of fresh coffee warming the spaces between the palms of his hands, or of cologne left hanging where he should have been. I don't know the smell of freshly cut grass at scandalous hours, or of salt in sweaty kisses after running without stopping to ask where we're running to.

    I don't know the taste of rose petals or burnt candles, or of the curve of his collarbone, or of mine. 

    I don't know the feeling of my throat dropping to the soles of my feet when the tip of my nose glides by his shoulders, or of the calloused tips of his fingers on the edge of my jaw, my chin, the raised skin on my cheekbone, or the dimple in my temple or the base of my neck. I don't know what it's like to have the small of my back pulled towards his, or what it's like to turn the center of my stomach inside out to hide the wrenching tugs in my gut.

    I don't know what it's like to miss holding him when he was never mine to hold.

    I don't know how to wrap him in the folds of my churning thoughts without letting him dissolve, or how to not let him tint with childish optimisim or cynical pessimism, or some shades in between, and I don't know knowing him without trembling toes or uncertainty.

    And it is the tremble in my toes and in my voice and in the crack in my throat that stop me from wanting to know. 


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  • August 24, 2015 - 8:03pm (Now Viewing)

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