nudity is just beginning

definitive, wild, dazzling

the nudity is just beginning

in the hollow of your openwork necklines


She is never afraid. All taboos exist only to be transgressed before being dissolved to an extreme burning point that she carries within her.

From me too, she wants this fire that it is always possible to ignite between the stones of time. This is why all the doors remain open day and night like her legs which open at my approach, swinging with desire like her dress lost in the eddies of her passions. This is also why, definitive, wild, dazzling, nudity has only just begun in the hollow of her deep openwork necklines.



" Do you love me ? »


I was looking for simple signs to get my bearings, to keep moving forward without tripping too much. For this, always consenting, Ponko helped me, quite naturally, she taught me to recognize her by the smell, to guess the movements of her desire just by the turmoil of her heart, she insisted a lot on the approval of a kiss at the bottom of which we discover all the sweetness of our languages. Before her, I had never been so far into the erotic future of our desires and the brotherhood of debauchery. Impatient and resolute, her pupils dilated and hungry for thrills, smiling vaguely as she read without regard to the bottom of the inkwell of my eyes, she began to break, inch by inch, the walls of the labyrinth. Every night, with my head lying on her stomach, I heard a gallop of wild, mixed, polymorphous, frenzied orgasms rising in the distance.

the beginning of love



the beginning of love - 愛の始まり - le début de l’amour

Haruka sits with her back to the wall in the golden light of a lamp that gives her skin a dazzling glow. I seek her gaze to better understand what she said to me. I scrutinize with insatiable joy this jewel of flesh and bone that speaks without moving, one arm resting on her bare knee. I don't listen to him anymore. I am silent. I look at the motionless hand, very beautiful, which shines next to the knee. Face, knee and hand that go their way under my eyelids. Visible haunting that will linger in my gaze wherever I go. This is how, in me, the beginning of love is first of all an image.

fascinating mirror



the basis of art is a qui-vive between imagination and reality where the ages are not equal and the sexes indifferent

this tension of pure life between hallucination and disorder is very strange and hard to think about

between images and nothingness there is therefore this vertiginous precipice which attracts us and a single footbridge which allows us to cross it

it's like a dream that no one dreams, a mirror of fire on which no reflection is deposited

things transmigrate there from caterpillars to butterflies in a stream of images each time our sexes fit together shivering in the white cotton of old black beds from another time

no god guards this rickety footbridge above death, so perilous that few wise men risk it because to cross it you have to strip your hands and seize it completely naked

which would explain the extreme scare of Haruka Akasako before the enigma of this fascinating mirror upstream of all meaning

10. Five years of philosophy in the workshop

I am pleased to announce the publication in English of my latest book written in 2019 in collaboration with Haruka Akasako

(available to order from Editions Gutta & Astula)

Fourth cover : "Haruka Akasako, a true philosopher fairy with a terrible sensitivity, a phenomenal enigma that I always try to decipher using the ideograms she left me. With her, I was invaded by unexpected images that devastated me. For five years, Haruka will have been a formidable conductor of resistance to me, causing powerful short circuits in time and space which have given back to my nights all their beauty.

pure japanese virgin

the night passes and the bodies drea

between aromas of coffee, moonlight and desire

the night that watches without burning or perishing

like a bird with an open wing

who touches what?


touch the other's body

first the footprints then her feet then her knees

then her thighs, the hood of her clitoris, her breasts of course

her heart too?


love is first of all this silence in its pure state where I am nothing

it's like between a cheek a knee

really strong leg

I stupidly become everywhere

red and fun


stubbornness of certain words of paradise lost

their wonderful innocence

their immediacy on the tongue

when I both of us


I always come back to the same

arm on your neck

love, heart, legs,

hairs, smile, cheek, glans, balls, ass


caresses experienced for real

the name of the loved one, her skin smell, her pheromones

I wish I could tell everything without it ever ending