Fine Art nominee

In the world of art, a recurring motif is the different versions of the martyrdom of Saint Sebastian. In this case I offer a new interpretation: the human being enslaved and tortured by the AI. Although the key to this is not too obvious, it exists...I assure you. An enigma to be solved.

I seek your gaze dedicated to carnal and murderous traffic, Prince of eternal air and servant of delicate monsters, your heroic back reigns there on Mars where you ride animals of gold and iron, energetic vectors behind the stabbed skin of spectres, braided hemp will be our orgasms.

Your body of mercury and your lips of faun, waiting to take my weapons in your hand, soft knives will be our religion.

Beats of your flesh, my mouth running through the pores of your salty skin, I long to feel the power between your legs like a child without wings, your thighs close around a wet name and between swords fly snakes of joy, and between the bloody knots of the fig tree, I am tiger or horse trapped in the rocks of your back.

Asphalt fish die in the shadows and you want to hurt the underground, open its doors so that wine and transparent snowflakes commit suicide between the sweat-stained sheets.

I slowly flood between your knives , horsemen in bloody flesh, dawn howls behind the window, we explode phosphorescent, deep animal cries are born, childish games on the beach of void.

All my love said the slave, all