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sex poem

unter dusky Lorbeerblatt
ihr Gesicht ist angemessen und glatt und fein
sie muß zurück gehen, sagte sie
wer den Regen liebt
Roses und Gold
ich fülle diese Schale
Material des Mondes
eins nach dem anderen wie verläßt von einem Baum
Welt, die unter meiner Hand ändert
seit, wenn Sie meine Seite heute bereitstanden
gebildet vom loveliness alleine
der Schnee whispers über mich


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