“No. Not like this. – Like this!”

If all the matter down here is made out of the fabric of the dresses, the angels wore, when they were expelled from the highest heavens – then, alas!, the ek-stasis of love and death, their coincidence, should be our new paradise. When our passionate tongues rave and lick alongside the tucks, seams and stitchings, then this will be our desperate but nevertheless idolatrous and haughty attitude. Even when the last piece of fabric is our own skin – or the dust of our bones. Our dreams are boundless, we are “ein Stück in Tüchern” (Rainer Maria Rilke)

Andreas L. Hofbauer on the erotics of touching fabric. A screen shot from the excellent Dellamorte Dellamore by Michele Soavi (1994)