Day Twenty-Three: Faces

they revolve around me
coming and going
or maybe its just me
that moves and everyone else
stays rooted in their selected spots

they’ll turn and smile
throw a glance and maybe a word
but I always am the statue
silent and watching
as they live and participate

they call out
asking to learn more
about me, and I fall
immerse myself completely
only to turn away once more

they are the faces
that stay in my soul
offering me their hearts
and I take but do I live?
faces with stories.

does a collector live?
that writer who sits back and takes
down the lives and places
others are crying to hear
do they not yearn too?

I am the elusive shadow
in the fairy tale, unknown and strange
I take and leave only traces
this is my tale
this is my crushing weight

I love and I take
listen and give voice
but at the end of the day
I am the bard who packs and leaves
away from the firelight.

into the dark.
looking and taking stories.
tasting the yearning of others
my soul is a patchwork
of all the souls that told their tales

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