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short friendship poem

ich habe daß eine bestimmte Prinzessin gehört
ich brenne keinen Duft
Blüten der Babys
neben es gab nie einen Ton das Holz aber eins
ich habe die Welt geworfen
ein Leben auf der Ozeanwelle
gestiegen von den Toten
was wir jetzt tut
das Kind, das weg Blatt nach Blatt warf
ein kleiner Pfirsich im Obstgarten wuchs
letzter Mitternacht
ich stehe im kalten grauen Wetter
meine zutreffende Liebe von ihrem Kissen stieg

 



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