Written on my hand
Find the stories of my life.
Passages from infant to child to adult to elder.
With multicolored inks, myriad scripts, and various languages.
Changes detailed in wondrous words
Unseen unless you care to look.
I carry these always.
Occasionally they find their way into plain view.
Bleeding onto poems and tales.
Even flavoring cups of tea.
(Kindness tastes of honey.)
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