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cowboy poetry

häufig denke ich an die schöne Stadt
mit Lippenblut Rot und Herz des Steins
ich habe eine Furcht in meinem Leben gehabt
aller Tag zum Aufpassen der blauen Welle sich zu kräuseln und zu brechen
als weiße Kerze
winged Schatten, die vorbei fegen
einige windigere Tage
in einem alten Raum beleuchtete weich
er kam mich durch die Hand nehmen


 



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