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sex poem

es gab drei in der Wiese durch den Bach
der Himmel
ich stand das geöffnete Flügelfenster bereit
Sturm
steigender Mond hat die Sterne versteckt
die Qual des Habens zu vieler Energie
Sonne und Wind und Schlag von Meer
dunkelstes, merkwürdigstes Geheimnis
die langen resounding Marmorflure
ich wußte nie, daß die Masse soviel Gold hatte
es gibt keine Menge, gleichwohl aufgepaßt und geneigt
wer den Regen liebt
ihr schönes Haar

 



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