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lost love poem

er spricht nicht gut
er war ein hohes junges oysterman
in die Dunkelheit und Frieden meinem abschließenden Betts
ich war eine Göttin, ere der Marmor mich fand
aber alas, gerade Träume
unter meinem Fenster in einer Stadtstraße
ich hatte den Fall über-vorbereitet
sehen Sie das vorläufige
wenn Freiheit von ihrer Gebirgshöhe
sehen Sie, von dieser Fälschung von ihm
wenn Sie heute abend kommen

 



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