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Shock or clash
|
|
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The series of shapes I counted out
|
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crunch with great force.
|
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Not side by side
|
|
but in a stack
|
|
there is a sudden pile up.
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How black it is, I hurt!
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How white !
|
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Space is too abundant
|
|
no room is left for me.
|
|
Shapes explode and collapse,
|
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parts and fragments all over the place.
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|
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If I pronounce the shapes
|
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not one by one -as as I did-
|
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but all at once ,
|
|
something incomprehensible
|
|
is heard,
|
|
a kind of noise
|
|
or rather a scream!
|
|
|
That collision of forms,
|
|
that shock, that impact causes a chain:
|
|
automatically the blue light comes to the aid
|
|
and drives full speed to
|
|
where matter stagnates.
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