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daughter poem

ich brenne keinen Duft
als Meer-Winde unsere Solitudes durchbohrten
auf und ab geht ihn
meine Mutter twines mich die Roses, die mit Tau naĂź sind
ich bin fevered
die Schwärzung rollt aufwärts
eine Meile nach
in die Dunkelheit und Frieden meinem abschlieĂźenden Betts
obwohl ich wenig als alle kleinen Sachen bin
wenn der Schleier von den Augen angehoben wird

 



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