they fight but show no scars.
living together and alone simultaneously,
they cross the wasteland of new york
with tireless strides.
a two-hour caravan south and a ten-minute train ride east
takes the one who left to a saloon in pearl river.
she pushes through the swinging doors to find the other
waiting at the bar, a dusty drink in hand.
"you aged," says the traveler.
"you came back," says the other.
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