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| Two windows by Triunfo Arciniegas |
The man in the room next to mine
has the same complaint as I.
When I wake in the night I hear him turning.
And then he coughs.
And I cough.
And after a silence I cough. And he coughs again.
This goes on for a long time.
Until I feel we are like two roosters
calling to each other at false dawn.
From far-away hidden farms.
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