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def poetry jam

gestiegen von den Toten
erklären Sie mir
geschaukelt in die Aufnahmevorrichtung vom tiefen
noch dreizehn Jahre
wölbte die Flut
wir waren nicht viele
ich habe eine Furcht in meinem Leben gehabt
dieses ist das Arsenal
ich mag es
geben Sie mich
wir brechen das Glas dessen sacred Wein
durch das Ufer durch das Meer
Freund, dessen Lächeln gekommen ist zu sein

 



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