Each beat
every rest
a cut in the stone
a million steps around
left here
on the tumbled ground
no name yet written
upon its faces
I sweat
dripping in a heat
not born of the day
The chisel slips
scars my crosshatched
hand
leaves the hammer lost
in a needing of the
blow
This stone is mine
its crater
the limits of my
traverse
its fragments
flung far into the mist
to bring me an echo
of the world outside.
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