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life poetry

es gibt eine Stadt, builded durch keine Hand
durch die rude Brücke
in Ihren Armen war ruhige Freude
Sie sagen, daß Sie mich lieben
sind Sie wach?
Gott
weich als das Bett in der Masse
behold ich, in meinem chiffon, in Gaze und in Filterstreifen
ich habe eine Furcht in meinem Leben gehabt
ich gehe meine Weise complacently

 



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