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erotic poem

Blüten der Babys
lassen Sie uns Pity die, denen besser seien Sie weg von, als wir sind
geben Sie mir Hunger
noch dreizehn Jahre
die Lattentagesdrowses auf dem westlichen durchtränken
ein Fliegenwort von hier und dort
ich sagte, ich habe geschlossen mein Herz
alle werfen die Jahre nieder
ich mag es
die Schiffe liegen in der Bucht

 



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