"Missing Link" (New poem, 2022/06/08).

There is a wind
soundless
I climb on it daily
missing
inhuman
there are humans
alien to life
its fish lips
kiss everyone passionately
but not with
the same
outcome

we were
tiny monsters
of loneliness
scum of the land
sweat of the desert
flower
of the dirt

we are
musicians
famous only to the mirrors
legends in the making
legends alive
shock obituaries

we will be
skeletons dancing
thinking to themselves
in mirrored coffins
„what have we done
to Africa?”
why is the climate a mess
why is war
a fact?

to the same drum
we sweat
to the same beat
we are born,
we eat
we die
what's leftovers to inhuman wind
just empty suits
suitcases
belongings
scattered
in the waste
and tiny children lost without their parents
the scavengers
of wind's waste