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sex poem

in seinem vorsichtigen Zelt
ich rüttele mein Haar im Wind des Morgens
zwischen den musing Sonnenuntergang und die Dunkelheit
vor langer Zeit im jungen Moonlight
wenn ich gekonnt hatte, Enge ein Gefängnis Liebe ist
ich habe eine Furcht in meinem Leben gehabt
wenn der rote Slayer denken, slays er
blau-schwarze nubian zupfende Orangen
Musik I hörte mit Ihnen war mehr als Musik

 



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