dream of making marks,
graphite, coal, pen
with ink.

see those marks
of making, chips
in slate, chopping
fire sticks, ages old.

step worn, door scratched.

bold marks on paper,
fingers bled into stone.

it has been done
all our lives, one way.

then another. words
in air, words shouting,
no one to hear.

i live on my own.

sbm.