What do we lack in this beautiful sadness if not a past we never had? Two women, two men and the entire world around them, as if reflected in the whitest, sun-bleached mirror. Unconscious gestures draw a presence without reference, which needs no representation.
What does one want, when one craves a body; what does one want when there is no other? Desire inhabits a land of ghosts, in the depths of the kind of eroticism that wanders in the limits between animal and infant. The object of desire is both present and absent in the staggering experience of duality.
What do we know about the abyss in the end? What can we gather, if not by listening to the wail of the sirens? The sirens take to the stage in the epilogue.
Grantchester Meadows, Pink Floyd
Little Johnny Jewel, Television
We All Make the Flowers Grow, Lee Hazlewood
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