Pier Paolo Pasolini's voice introduces a monologue featuring Carlo, the poet's alter ego, set in a desert space with an almost lunar appearance: an expanse of sand under a starry sky. The man stages a sort of erotic liturgy bordering on self-destructive anxiety: he will offer himself to twenty hustler street boys, before a spectacular sunset, which recalls the strong colors of Sirk or Kazan melodramas, puts an end to the whole affair.

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