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footprint poem

ich brenne keinen Duft
glänzt das letzte Alter, das folgende mit Hoffnung wird gesehen
der Blitz blitzte und hob an
und breakethbrot nicht mehr
vor langer Zeit im jungen Moonlight
die Schwärzung
in den Wolke-grauen Morgen
wir legen
ich bin eine Frau

 



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