Ann Cotten - German Poetry




Love me, love me, run your fingers
from my head all the way down
to where I stand on the ground.

Ask me, ask where I will go
cascade of ideas and lust
do I have the guts to know
what will lie apart and what is just a blow?

Find me, find me, as your playing
ceases to be all, by chance
upon a racing corner;
comet, glance.





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