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erotic poem

meine Mutter twines mich die Roses, die mit Tau naß sind
ein dünner grauer Schatten auf dem Rand des Gedankens
denken Sie, mein Junge, wenn ich meine Arme um Sie setze
ich schleuderte meine Seele zur Luft wie einem Falkefliegen
ich sagte
das traurigste des Jahres
königliches Fest war erfolgt
die Dämmerung war apfelgrün
Massentravails
Melancholie, Blau war sie
nehmen Sie meine Bracelets

 



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