unmade – Urge

titled Urge
[From Proto-Italic *worgēō, from Proto-Indo-European *w(o)rǵʰ-eye-, from *werǵʰ- (“bind, squeeze”) (compare German würgen (“to strangle”), Lithuanian ver̃žti(“to string, tighten, constrict”), Russian (poetic) отверза́ть (otverzátʹ, “to open”, literally “to untie”), Polish otwierać (“to open”)), English worry, wring.
-ÚRG, -URGÍE elem. „creator, creație”. (< fr. -urge, -urgie, cf. gr. -ourgos, -ourgia)]

A room filled with crumpled tent tarps of 3 x 5/8 meters
Beneath the window a bed or mattress.
Onto which Lio is naked, dancing fear and distress and tension.
He screams.
From the tarps as in a wakeup, appears Gia a wondrous being from another universe.
She adapts to the world around her in weird perceptions and moods.
She has her palms and face covered in gold glitter.
He has his face covered in black. Muted.

After a time she recognizes Lio as a being and approaches him.
She touches him, they begin to meld, to exchange discoveries.
Each one speaking his own body language.
Step by step they begin to explore their sexuality. Their genitals. The sensations that takes them beyond.
Until he becomes erected and relaxed on the red bed. And she is above him, sliding in him. Dancing inside and outside him.
On her face, on his face too. Brief changes with the face of the other. A joining is happening. The gold face becomes black. A black face becomes golden. And clean. Flashes.
As she is dancing ontop of him. As we see her from behind in silhouette sliding up and down on his cock. Both black figures on the light outside. Both dancing weird as touching the air to push it away from them.
He comes up to her and begins to play with his black face to her golden face. Bit by bit, weirdly their faces become faces. And their faces become clean. They kiss with their eyes closed.
And they slowly open their eyes. And they see each other and they connect. Eye to eye. One eye. Dual eye. In which their bodies contorted, devoid of soul, chained one to another are circling in the green crumbled tarp [reverse motion]. Bodies in the eye. Until the bodies are eaten by the tarp and transforms all in a swamp landscape – Vacaresti Lake – and we can hear the nature too. It becomes all so very real.
And somewhere in a hidden corner on the ground, there is a small pile of gold. On which drips very slowly a few drops of blood.
END

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