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i miss you poem

ich gehe hinunter die Gartenwege
ich singe Ihnen
liegt hier eine schönste Dame
ich kann nicht Ihnen jetzt erklären
behold ich, in meinem chiffon, in Gaze und in Filterstreifen
und breakethbrot nicht mehr
der Himmel
neben es gab nie einen Ton das Holz aber eins
geschaukelt in die Aufnahmevorrichtung vom tiefen

 



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