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nature poem

Bewegung Ihres Körpers ist wie Musik
als es
weich als das Bett in der Masse
babylon -- wo ich gehe zu träumen
es gibt ein, das dieses i einmal so sehr liebte
gibt es jedes dort
um Mitternacht
ihr Gesicht ist angemessen und glatt und fein
desolate und einsam
das Emporheben, als der Wind brannte durch

 



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