What I See, I Write

I am but a mere scribe
Without ink or paper,
Listening, watching
Your many stories unfold.

I am burdened with your memories;
Your words have become mine,
My tears have mingled with yours.

I write your stories with liquid time
With my gnarled ageless fingers;
For I am a witness to your life,
Aware of every ebb and flow.

I stare down into your depths,
My life force cascading into you,
Forming a mesmerizing image
Of me within you.

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