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teenage love poem

wenig Gatter wurde schließlich erreicht
in den Hallen des Schlafes wandered Sie vorbei
in den Wolke-grauen Morgen
über dem Fluß auf dem Hügel
behold ich, in meinem chiffon, in Gaze und in Filterstreifen
Schatten legen entlang broadway
aus dem funkelnden Meer heraus
ich brenne keinen Duft
meine Mutter twines mich die Roses, die mit Tau naß sind

 



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