This piece was done using a writing challenge, which I included in the text. |
I saw him again. All I could think about was what we were. Often, I would find my eyes tracing along those graceful arcs of his neck, so elegant when he turns. . . . and I see it as he moves, that spot I brushed my lips against. I loved to kiss him there just to make him smile. I remember where he bumped his head trying to lean in and kiss me. I remember those fine soft hairs on his skin, which shone when the sun hit them just right. I remembered each muscle underneath, which would stop at nothing to protect me. He raises his arms, and I see the hills and valleys. I saw that spot. I would tickle him there when he was down. . . . and I remember the warmth when those arms embraced me. . . . and so my eyes wandered . . . Until they found what he was hiding all this time. . . . under dyed hair and the colored contacts. Jagged white scars had cut through those spots I touched. Bullets and blades had torn at that skin, and made such a man, such a man. Each white slash made me weep over what had died . . . . . . that man I loved. All I see now is a course and calloused man. . . . still, I beg to touch his skin, to remember each curve and mark. For pity, that one day he will show me the man he once was. (261 words) |