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  • At 3:00 AM,
    Clutching an oversized mug full of pale golden tea in my hands
    While you nibble on a bit of toast with a vacuous look in your pink eyes
    We share a moment listening to the radio

    I glance at the clock warily:
    Someone has been killed today

    The world is blowing up again,
    I tell you.
    You've only now noticed my presence.
    Chewing slowly, and then swallowing,
    You regard me blearily and say:
    Aren't they tired?
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