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math poem

unter dem Erntemond
Ginghamhund und die Kalikokatze
ich fülle diese Schale
für diese weißen Arme über meinen Ansatz
dunkel-eyed
behold ich, in meinem chiffon, in Gaze und in Filterstreifen
die Berge sind sie leise Völker
und so geht sie
glänzt das letzte Alter, das folgende mit Hoffnung wird gesehen
der Duft kam

 



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