Samantha Hunt

I wrote my character in pencil-
watched the slate grey scratch forge
a jagged trail to the end of the line
well worn eraser to soak up mistakes,
chewable, changeable me.
Then you came along
with your cheap marker
to write me forever.
(I could no longer feel the trees)
Submerged in ink I blurred your edges
re-shaped my paper into a ball, and rolled away.