#wrpdmagazine is presenting an exclusive story celebrating
1 MONCLER J.W. ANDERSON collection
special thanks to ERRECI STUDIOS
Obsession is possession of gesture, of its own birth, its thunderous decline.
That slides, rolls over, flips over, twists itself crawling in greyish frayed plume.
Corners of joints, holes and penetrations.
Caresses, sharp nails sinking in heaps of epidermis turned wax, dust.
Blinding desire, disturbing, mind-blowing of flooding you, devouring you. Snapping your muscled arm, your bulging chest.
Storming of kisses your sweetest face stabbing your belly, now bleeding...
I cry, desperate, ripping my skin from those bones and tendons cages. They grab it, cherishing my logo.
I cry, sobbing, having confused your shadow with your flesh. Having cut down, my life too, in death-blows.