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nature poem

häufig denke ich an die schöne Stadt
liebe Frau
einige der Hurts, die Sie kuriert haben
behold ich, in meinem chiffon, in Gaze und in Filterstreifen
ich weiß nicht wo
ich war eine Göttin, ere der Marmor mich fand
weich als das Bett in der Masse
als ich war, lief London ein
er kam mich durch die Hand nehmen
diese sind

 



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