Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
It was drawn in a hand that didn’t quite trust itself, lines wavering as if the cartographer kept glancing over their shoulder. No compass rose. No legend. Only a thin path curling inward, as though the map were trying to remember a place that never agreed to exist. Some say it leads to a city made of glass, where every street reflects a different version of you. Others insist it’s a shortcut through a dream you once abandoned halfway through. When I held it up to the light, the ink shifted — not fading, but rearranging, as if the map were still deciding what it wanted to reveal. Whoever drew it wasn’t lost. They were searching for something that couldn’t be found on any real terrain, something that required a place that wasn’t a place at all. And just before the paper settled, a faint outline appeared at the edge of the path — a doorway, or a warning, or perhaps a memory I hadn’t made yet. I folded the map carefully, and for a moment, my hands smelled faintly of a place I had never been.
0
Feb 7
Feb 7, 2026 at 2:57 PM UTC
The Scent of an Unvisited Place
It was drawn in a hand that didn’t quite trust itself, lines wavering as if the cartographer kept glancing over their shoulder. No compass rose. No legend. Only a thin path curling inward, as though the map were trying to remember a place that never agreed to exist. Some say it leads to a city made of glass, where every street reflects a different version of you. Others insist it’s a shortcut through a dream you once abandoned halfway through. When I held it up to the light, the ink shifted — not fading, but rearranging, as if the map were still deciding what it wanted to reveal. Whoever drew it wasn’t lost. They were searching for something that couldn’t be found on any real terrain, something that required a place that wasn’t a place at all. And just before the paper settled, a faint outline appeared at the edge of the path — a doorway, or a warning, or perhaps a memory I hadn’t made yet. I folded the map carefully, and for a moment, my hands smelled faintly of a place I had never been.
A poem about a map that reveals only what it chooses, and the strange pull of places that don't exist. This piece is the first part of a triptych, accompanied by "The City That Appears Only When Unseen" and "The Cartographers Debt."
VerseBuster
Written by
48/M/Poland
Feb 7
Feb 7, 2026 at 2:57 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem