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Persistence of Memory by Salvador Dali Quarter to Seven
I opened up my eyes and saw
a desert decorated with a variety of clocks.
And although my body felt normal,
the clocks were flimsy and laid as though they were melting.
I am confused yet calm,
and the only thing I was certain about
was that it was 6:45, according to one of the nearby clocks.
But as I saw the orange sunset and cascading mountains,
I traveled onwards in the beautiful land.
Knowingly, I left the clocks behind,
allowing them to remain still in the same place that I had once found them.
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