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thanksgiving poem

wir legen
hören Sie den Regen?
ich bin eine Frau
warum die Sachen sind, die keinen Tod haben
er warfen einen Stein, Sie warfen einen Stein
ich bot sie aller Abschied
Bruder, bin ich Feuer
dieses ist das Schiff der Perle
ich sterbe
ein Dichter, nachdem den Zaum seine Zunge entfernt habend
die Schwärzung stiehlt die Formen aller Königinnen

 



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