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dark poetry

noch dreizehn Jahre
ich hörte den Wind aller Tag
Himmel, die sie waren, ashen und nüchtern
weich weinend
es gibt drei Möglichkeiten, in denen Männer nehmen
die Schatten der Schiffe
er warfen einen Stein, Sie warfen einen Stein
gegen die grüne Flamme des Weißdorn-Baums
ein Vogel sang
ich bilde meinen Abschirmrahmen, aber niemand weiß

 



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