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anniversary poem

er spricht nicht gut
meine zutreffende Liebe von ihrem Kissen stieg
durch das Ufer durch das Meer
wölbte die Flut
tun Sie die Jungen und Mädchen gehen noch
dieses ist das Schiff der Perle
was wir jetzt tut
ich stand
ängstlich nicht mehr, sage ich
neben es gab nie einen Ton das Holz aber eins
als es
da ich der Richtung des Todes geglaubt habe
und breakethbrot nicht mehr
ich gehe meine Weise complacently

 



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