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black poetry

Bewegung Ihres Körpers ist wie Musik
auf und an
in einem alten Raum beleuchtete weich
ich sagte, ich habe geschlossen mein Herz
ängstlich nicht mehr, sage ich
die Wiese kroch
truely
melancholische Tage sind gekommen
gegen die grüne Flamme des Weißdorn-Baums

 



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