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fall poem

dunkelstes, merkwürdigstes Geheimnis
ich stehe im kalten grauen Wetter
Sonne trat unten von seinem goldenen Throne
wir legen
die Qual des Habens zu vieler Energie
liebe Frau
ich wußte nie, daß die Masse soviel Gold hatte
meine zutreffende Liebe von ihrem Kissen stieg
meine Mutter twines mich die Roses, die mit Tau naß sind

 



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