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Two Women
by Laszlo Bertok

They carry sand in the street. Two women
arm in arm. One is more
confident, a little ahead. The other 
seems to hide behind her companion's shoulder. Someone's
jaw drops. They look back
in unison. The moment
seems to be the previous one. A dog starts
barking, but is beaten 
instantly. It's audible as
the needle warehouse explodes, though
your throat irritates you since morning, and the
street light is already on. Pigeons
nip on each other's ears. The prison yard
falls forward. Between two needle heads
rises the heavenly 
sand dollar. Neil Armstrong's
footsteps are still visible. Things
should be licked into their places 
when they are around. What can I say? Two women
in the Moon. They are happy. And stirringly
beautiful.

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