Antoine d’Agata Gaza, Palestine. 1999.
“The brothel lit the dark night of origins: nothing to celebrate there except flowing streams of wine and body fluids. Was it compassion or physical desire I (/we?) felt f
(...) or Lilith, a thrice holy whore who every night was possessed by priests and bad genies while she sat on top.
The brothel was a hell of a place where men drank under the spell of young godless queens and the threat of sweating armed guards. Something like a dirty Paradise, eternal home of Pain where men of the Garden weep and ejaculate. God only knows how soft was Lilith’s skin, fake Houri with big black eyes like pearls who wore red and gold satin, and whose flesh transformed the desert inside men into an immortal spring of sperm.
Days later, some rabbi or imam burned Paradise down.
The memory of men is riddled with thorns of frustration, sowing the seeds of death in their grief, leaving nothing but the ruins of passion in the land of the three monolithic lies.”
– Antoine d’Agata © Antoine d’Agata | Magnum Photos
