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short love poem

alter Wein zum Trinken
Material des Mondes
wer der Läufer in den Himmeln ist
desolate und einsam
der Duft kam
es gab eine Zeit in den ehemaligen Jahren
warum die Sachen sind, die keinen Tod haben
wenig Park, den ich durch führe
ich liege am Tabellenberg
ein Vogel sang

 



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