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erotic poem

ein dünner grauer Schatten auf dem Rand des Gedankens
die Schiffe liegen in der Bucht
obwohl Lieberepine und Grundscheuern
drehen Sie nicht Ihren Kopf
als Meer-Winde unsere Solitudes durchbohrten
herrlich und schrecklich Ihre Liebe
einige windigere Tage
ich erwarte Sie
ich gehe hinunter die Gartenwege

 



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