— today the waves were high. i dared not go in i brændingen brødes tanker
writings
Tagged water
02.09.2016
— today corrals grows out of my chest. they start as itching rash — resembling that of — sore swollen girl nibbles that will develop to breast between the body’s age of nine and twelve years old (1984 until 1987*) — today corrals grows out of my chest — breaks through the surface of my skin like a sea disappearing — they heap up through this tide — a burial shrouds on my body. rise and fall with the breath and corrals emerge — more — for each exhale. for you. for you
01.17.2016
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 firben