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teen love poem

winged Schatten, die vorbei fegen
ich mag es
so gefallen
seien Sie nicht falsch
ich bin vom Sein bitter und träge vom Sein klug träge
durch die ausgedehnten schmerzende Brust der Masse
in den Hallen des Schlafes wandered Sie vorbei
wie er wer Geist in der Flamme des Mittages
ich kann nicht Ihnen jetzt erklären
aus dem tiefen heraus und die Dunkelheit

 



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