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narrative poetry

sie muß zurück gehen, sagte sie
die auf das Oberseite sagen, daß sie Sie, Masse kennen -- sie sind Lügner
herrlich und schrecklich Ihre Liebe
ich sagte
einmal dieser weiche Rasen
Gott
diese alte silberne Schüssel von meinen
vor er war viele und viel einem Jahr

 



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