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ich singe Ihnen
bis zu ihrem Raumfenster
obwohl ich wenig als alle kleinen Sachen bin
allein
mit Lippenblut Rot und Herz des Steins
der Schnee whispers über mich
innerhalb meiner Hand halte ich
unter dusky Lorbeerblatt
aus dem tiefen heraus und die Dunkelheit
Bewegung Ihres Körpers ist wie Musik

 



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