I'm saturated with latent tension: each match contains a hope, an insinuation, a closeness to the fire. Unfulfilled desire accumulates until it disfigures the face, shaping a mask that doesn't hide, but burns from within. I've always believed there's a fierce eroticism in restraint; this piece places me just before the explosion, on that threshold where pleasure is still a promise, where the fire barely touches the wick. 🇬🇧
_I like apples_
I'm saturated with latent tension: each matchstick holds a waiting, a suggestion, a nearness to fire.
Unfulfilled desire builds up until it disfigures the face, shaping a mask that doesn't hide—it burns from within.
I've always believed there's a fierce eroticism in restraint;
this piece places me just before the explosion,
on that threshold where pleasure is still a promise,
where fire only grazes the fuse.

🇫🇷
_J'aime les pommes_
Je suis saturée de tension latent: chaque allumette contient une attente, une suggestion, une proximité avec l'incendie.
Le désir inassouvi s'accumule jusqu'à déformer le visage, créant un masque qui ne cache pas —mais brûle de l'intérieur.
J'ai toujours cru qu'il existent un érotisme féroce dans la retenue;
this piece pleases me just before the explosion,
dans ce seuil où le plaisir est encore une promise,
où le feu effleure à comb la mèche.