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tent 1 WEB.jpg


Ink on rice paper, 135x70cm


We live on the trembling surface of things.

Toes tightly clenched on the edge of a diving board, we look down, we look around for a place of rescue, but find nowhere to land. Tonight, there’s only you and me.

Come closer.

Shaken blind in those nocturnal claws, let’s fill each other’s blind spots. Secure my back with your chest, press your ankles on my thighs. Let yourself, heavy....

...Reach through my slippery skin for a grasp onto something solid, a bone maybe. Bring your face close to mine. Let’s hold our cheeks and eyelashes in each other’s palms. We’ll form a place between us with our hands, hung at the tip of our fingers, like a tent, so small it can be filled with the warmth of our own breath.

tent 2.jpg
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