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daughter poem

ich liebe meine Stunde des Winds und des Lichtes
die Schwärzung rollt aufwärts
ich habe das Rennen gewonnen
fette schwarze Dollars in einem Wein-Faßraum
ich gehe hinunter die Gartenwege
als Meer-Winde unsere Solitudes durchbohrten
schwach-weak-winged Song

 



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