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grandmother poem

im Bereich
ich halte Ihr Herz
er war ein hohes junges oysterman
durch die ausgedehnten schmerzende Brust der Masse
aus dem tiefen heraus und die Dunkelheit
gute Frau
ich sah, daß Gott Sie es? bezweifeln
seit, wenn Sie meine Seite heute bereitstanden
der Duft kam
schön
ich brenne keinen Duft
voll von den Rissen

 



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