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.
It is a hopeless desire, an impossible magnet for a rendezvous never to be.
The restlessness of these two solitudes keeps on vibrating in the purple wilderness, and it takes comfort in an ageless adolescence.
A sort of inebriation sheds light on the most intimate and forbidden things, exposing an intimacy that knows no shame.
Still, it is not a mere rebellion against decency, rather an orchestrated charm in which bodies are dilated in space, unaware of the ultimate boundaries between the internal and the external: the intimate and the public, the instinct and the stage, the inner and the outer end up perfectly matching, in the grip of a mysterious and light-hearted hysteria.