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slam poetry

die Schiffe liegen in der Bucht
als weiĂźe Kerze
sehen Sie, von dieser Fälschung von ihm
grĂĽnes Nachmittagsserene und hell
weich weinend
warum so traurig mein reizendes?
hohe Wände und sehr groß
meine Mutter twines mich die Roses, die mit Tau naĂź sind
Kerzen, die seitlich in den Tomatedosen stĂĽrzen
Sitzen in seinem Schalthebel, der Ihren Tee wartet

 



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