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er erklärt von den guten alten Zeiten
ich kann nicht seinem greatness immer glauben
um Mitternacht
im Bereich
alle innen und alle ohne mich
meine Mutter twines mich die Roses, die mit Tau naß sind
Sie sind frei
welches hält
jene schwarzen Augen I einmal so gepriesen
der Himmel
unter den Rauch und Nebel eines Dezembernachmittages
nun da ich zu Ihnen abgekühlt bin

 



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