"I wonder if I will wear the tight seamless trousers made of your legs, ornamented all along the inside with faux-excrements? And do you think I will, without swooning prematurely, button over my chest the heavy and trembling waistcoast of your breasts? As soon as I am immobilized beneath the pleated skirt of all your fingers and weary to undo the garlands with which you have enwreathed the drowsiness of your never-born fruit, then you will breathe in me your perfume and your fever, so that, in full light, from the interior of your sex, mine will emerge." Hans Bellmer
from - Petite anatomie de l'inconscient physique ou l'anatomie de l'image. Paris: Le Terrain Vague, 1957.
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