Between this and the other
in between and the present one
THINK
if something else lies more,
what I never dare to express:
have I lost my love?
Or have I never known, how does she function?
Nobody really there who taught me, like it would be to be felt again differently, every day differently, until one means to have wing.
All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Meike Schrut.
Published on e-Stories.org on 16.07.2010.
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