Things Unsullied.

The eyes you have,
when you experience change,
wet like a newborn animal,
darting and buzzing as they move through the nameless, 

versus the eyes you have looking at familiarity, 
glossing over similarity,
running the same current over and over,
until there are no more sparks.

What happens between those sets of eyes?
When does it die, the wonderment? 

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