Sweet shadows in our cave perspire in candlelight. The nest was built by birds that likes to stir in wind. Dough needs kneading, they said. So the eggs shake, so. The egg rocks and learns to stand on one foot.
Lizards know the trick.
The sand is hot, skip from paw to paw. Our cave is cool. I grow fat. Our cups are ice cooled and grape juice filled. A tight torque, days in days out.