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black poetry

wir waren nicht viele
dieses ist das Arsenal
sie können von der Liebe in einem Häuschen sprechen
weich jetzt das Licht des Tages
neben es gab nie einen Ton das Holz aber eins
Schlaf süß in Ihren humble Gräbern
Stern-Staub und vaporous Licht
hohe Wände und sehr groß
von der Sonne noch Sterne

 



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