by Amber Koneval.
It is much easier
to write on walls
than it is to write
on paper.
Walls erode, worn down to polished
pebbles, smoothed out of all
midnight-made notches
splashing away lines of chalk
and flaking paint
as seasons
and hearts
change.
On walls, the words are
large enough
that they pass for landscape
hills of barren slopes, the best to
scream upon deaf ears
and feel satisfied
Walls can give firm footing
can be blasted apart and built
into a home and
forgotten
but paper is meant to be
swallowed
shredded in the esophagus
and absorbed.
Paper sticks.