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love poetry chat

letzter Mitternacht
ich stand
jene schwarzen Augen I einmal so gepriesen
wo ich sollen Sie, finden Sie Sie
sie muĂź zurĂĽck gehen, sagte sie
noch dreizehn Jahre
die Schwärzung stiehlt die Formen aller Königinnen
möglicherweise
aus dem Fenster heraus ein Meer der grünen Bäume
wir waren nicht viele
sie sprengte fierce Wein

 



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