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Fiona Duffy

6:50

it’s 6:50 am

if we become separated from each other

meet me underneath the shadow of the

watermelon vine


it is 6:50 am

I was wondering

how it must have been for

god when she made everything


it’s 6:50 am

I’ll be whatever you want

it’s 6:50 am

the birds still haven’t gotten up

it’s 6:50 am

I think I’m watching you watch me

or you’re watching me watch you


it’s 6:50 am

this watermelon tastes melancholy


it’s 6:50 am

I’m gonna drive until I see the sun

haunted by the feeling that

my hiding place isn’t watertight enough


it’s 6:50 am

it’s just the suspicion

a pulsing light of

the blue flower flame



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