He stares
outward,
without blinking:
to blink
is to die.
No matter
which direction,
the perspective
remains centred
in the middle
of his forehead.
A turn of the head
brings a new world:
to close the eyelid
destroys
the only reality
he possesses.
Relentlessly,
his solitary vision
draws him ever forward
into the dulling
sameness
of his days.
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