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My eyes burn from their darting and peering. The scanning gaze that penetrates the darkness and looks onto some unseen danger. The perilous intersection.

A static moment from the past has been set to one side and I pass it with reflection. It stays with me even now.

I remember the steam in cold air and his dead, yellow eyes gazing into nothingness. I catalogue the difference between his and mine.

They've paved over my collisions, then and now, but they live upon recall and in my reflection.

In the crystal position of clarity,
haven driven all night,
I realized all of life's meaning,
somewhere on "I95"