He isn't listening to me.
His toothpick moves.
So do his eyes.
Nothing else on him seems to.
He doesn't say much.
But he doesn't seem quiet.
He isn't angry.
But he isn't here either.
He doesn't discern a difference
Between flesh and matter.
He can't be swayed.
He put gold on his enamel
And that's all there is.
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