Cinema returns us to anima, religion of matter, which gives each thing its special divinity and sees gods in all things and beings. Cinema, heir of alchemy, last of an erotic science.

When sex involves all the senses intensely, it can be like a mystical experience.

There may be a time when we'll attend Weather Theaters to recall the sensation of rain.

[...] My wild words slip into fusion and risk losing the solid ground. So stranger, get wilder still. Probe the highlands.

Lying on stained, wretched sheets with a bleeding virgin We could plan a murder Or start a religion.

We are content in the 'given' in sensation's quest. We have been metamorphosised from a mad body dancing on hillsides to a pair of eyes staring in the dark.

We're reaching for death on the end of a candle We're trying for something that's already found us