Silent, naked, is it not the intimacy of the universe to which you are opened by your intolerable vertigo? And is it not a slipshod, unfinished universe yawning there between your legs? A question without response. But you yourself, opened without your dress to the infinite laughter of the stars, could you now imagine that the distant void is any heavier than that unavowable intimacy disguising itself in you?)

Splayed out, your head hung back, eyes burning adrift in the milky eddies of the night sky. Abandon to those stars…your body’s sweetest flow!
Georges Bataille, Halleluiah! The Catechism of Dianus (via frenchtwist)
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