Loneliness, who wears a tuxedo

Let’s have a look around

Loneliness waits in the kitchen,

wears a tuxedo
Everyone misses the roses

Also, a triangle in my throat,
a circle in my mouth, and this longing:
trains, window-scenes, the softness of going

But bright here, no place for music
when you wake up this alive

Inside my camera, an out-of-focus-bird
In Antarctica, a penguin turns off
towards triangles: noone stops, knows why

Is this how birds love
when bones take longest to digest

Swallowed something whole once

Behind a curtain of bubbles,
one-eye-open, I sleep in the sand