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erotic poetry

unter den Bergen wandered ich
ich gehe hinunter die Gartenwege
ich sah, daß Sie und shivering auf den Steinen hunched
es gab eine Zeit in den ehemaligen Jahren
in allen Sachen gesprochen nicht von
Ginghamhund und die Kalikokatze
ich sah die archangels in meinem Apfel-Baum gestern Abend
unter dem Erntemond
es gibt ein Land voll des Weins

 



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