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free love poetry

die Bögen der roten Brücke
ich stand das geöffnete Flügelfenster bereit
die Wiese kroch
gegangen die drei, jene seltenen Schwestern
gestern Abend legte der Vollmond ein Tuch von Weiß
ich kann nicht Ihnen jetzt erklären
der Duft kam
erneuern Sie den Anblick der Freude
so verloren
ich bin eine Frau
ich sterbe
melancholische Tage sind gekommen
jetzt, während meine Lippen leben
warum die Sachen sind, die keinen Tod haben

 



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