COMING SOON
Born from the poem of the same name, Gush is a film of heat, hunger, and heightened sensation. It trades tidy narrative for atmosphere, moving through desire, guilt, pleasure, frustration,
It sits in the mess of longing, compulsion, pleasure, and discomfort, tracing desire at its most heightened and unresolved.
It is voyeuristic in gaze, but not simple in meaning.
The film is not driven by story so much as sensation: ache, repetition, release, and the quiet violence of wanting.
It feels intimate without being confessional, inviting the viewer into something at once seductive and unstable.
Rather than asking to be decoded, Gush asks to be entered; to be experienced as texture, pressure, and pulse. Below is the poem that appears within the visualiser.
Gush
Kitty, love, love, lust.
Guilt, nerve, kitty, thrust.
Kitty, kitty, eat, fuss.
Kitty, love, love, lust.
Godless-ness.
The purity of the second cumming.
Now tensionless and bemused at the liquid running.
Down the leg. Each stream holds an unsavoury origin.
Sexual awakening sheds light on kinks most menacing.
Thickened fluid coats the rose as it plumes.
Stimulation isn’t found where nice ones fantasize.
Sensations of lust are absolved in aged wine.
Kitty can’t get off unless it’s bloody and tried.
Rub against the soreness. To detach a racing mind.
Hoofed are the toes curling across the covers of delight.
Desperation made with leather and holding on forever.
Kitty, love, love, lust.
Guilt, nerve, kitty, thrust.
Kitty, kitty, eat, fuss.
Kitty, love, love, lust.