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free love poetry

diese alte silberne Schüssel von meinen
das endlose, dumme merriment der Sterne
gestern Abend legte der Vollmond ein Tuch von Weiß
lassen Sie uns Pity die, denen besser seien Sie weg von, als wir sind
wenn es
Nobility des Todes wieder
seien Sie in mir als die ewigen Stimmungen
süsses splendor
Schatten legen entlang broadway
den brennenden Gedanken kleiden
ich bete nicht für Frieden
meine zutreffende Liebe von ihrem Kissen stieg

 



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