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child poem

ich singe Ihnen
der Körper kann begrenzen
in den Hallen des Schlafes wandered Sie vorbei
die Schiffe liegen in der Bucht
ich bin der Wind, der wavers
die Lattentagesdrowses auf dem westlichen durchtränken
ich fülle diese Schale
schreckliche Wahrheiten diese sind
auf und an
durch das Ufer durch das Meer
gebildet vom loveliness alleine
sie war eine Schönheit an den Tagen
seien Sie nicht mit mir verärgert
das Kind, das weg Blatt nach Blatt warf

 



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