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mom poem

aber ich kann nicht Sie jetzt lesen
war sie nicht für diesen einzigartigen Geruch
gestiegen von den Toten
er warfen einen Stein, Sie warfen einen Stein
der Körper kann begrenzen
ein mit Ihnen
wenn Sie heute abend kommen
geben Sie mir Hunger
ein Sturm fährt auf den Tide
glooms der Lebeneichen
unter dem Erntemond

 



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