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christian poetry

wenn die Stunden des Tages numeriert werden
ich hörte den Wind aller Tag
bewiesen im Schimmer in Ihren Augen
ich war eine Göttin, ere der Marmor mich fand
Kerzen, die seitlich in den Tomatedosen stĂĽrzen
alle jene Schätze, die liegen
unter meinem Fenster in einer StadtstraĂźe
Geräusche, die sich bemühen heftig zu zerreißen

 



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