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love poems

Stadt, die nicht eine Stadt ist
im Bereich
wir brechen das Glas dessen sacred Wein
ich war eine Göttin, ere der Marmor mich fand
in seinem vorsichtigen Zelt
die Qual des Habens zu vieler Energie
Überschreiten durch die huddled und häßlichen Wände
er würde sogar seinen Witz haben

 



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