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child poetry

sie hat einen freien Raum, Wind-geschütztes loveliness
ängstlich nicht mehr, sage ich
gerade als meine Finger auf diesen Schlüsseln
wie wie die Sterne dieses Weiß ist, namenlose Gesichter
lieben Sie mich schließlich oder, wenn Sie nicht werden
mein Sohn ist tot und ich bin gehender Vorhang
ich bilde meinen Abschirmrahmen, aber niemand weiß

 



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