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Them together, safe in a teeny tiny tent

she realised something about herself; she did like restriction, enclosure, bondage.

When she was with him, it was like they were both in a beautiful velvet and fur lined tent. A teeny tiny tent.

They breathed each other’s air. Warming themselves with each other’s passions. Invisible chains bound them together for eternity.

In that tent they learnt the language of each others moods & bodies. Decipher the clues & cues of their yearnings.  They transposed signs & signals to become drunk on their heady “D/s, S/m and IloveU”.

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About Prim Quim

I am an artist and therapist. I work within the themes of sexuality, repression, guilt, greed, contradiction, objectification, compulsion, itches that need to be scratched and bruises that need to be pressed. I am a consentual bruise presser, a boundary straddler and limit pusher. I interview people and witness their lives, I write about what I see, how I feel and all the beautiful fragments that make up my reality. I am the sum of all my parts - some bits move and other parts are static, some bits need oiling and other bits just run and run. I am both subject and object to myself. I am slave to my Art and so are the others who come into my sphere. I objectify and use, interrogate and examine - I need their reality and reasoning to lay alongside my own to compare, contrast, season and gorge upon. Exponent of automatic writing, compulsive self realisation and daring myself to go further.

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