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33 silhouette of two women drinking coffee for Houri they sit in jeans and drink their coffee black the tall one pours her broken romance through a sieve the words, while cardamom in flavor, are in English many afternoons they meet at this café to talk of home (to which there’s no return) and the sting of longing that permeates each day the mood is soft, the laughter not so strong their heads are leaning inward; the shorter woman sighs her hands are silent, her head turned away as she speaks with orange blossom–scented words the angel I believed was always here has flown away leaving me to cope alone with love that’s in a different tongue I understand too well to misinterpret ...

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