all fevers are of the water. the temperature of our flesh, disturbed.
our bodies redraw to the cave of the hidden world. heartbeat calls out for replies —
the air reply in our lungs, the daylight reply to our skin.
all life moves outwards — come out of your cave.
hestene der trækker vejret
lærken der står stille i luften
sommerfugl på asfalten efter en bil er kørt forbi, broden ude. vingerne sitrer

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