# 223 Beam
series-2
Beam of light. It’s sharpness. The
voice’s blade. Dry light. Is it a call what cuts from his ears to his
diaphragm? One would first feel a caress. Something like chrome steel. Does
consciousness resist or fade? Wouldn’t the cutting logic demand absence ? To
give oneself notice to cyclically quit each time the beam is back? To be
there only intermittently. Like the alternation of nights and days skimming the
everyday life. Ordinary process though it holds on. No crumbling. Nothing but
flesh. Its substance regenerated. Always. It will have the knifelike thing muted.
Faisceau. Son tranchant. La lame d’une voix. Lumière
sèche. Est-ce un appel ce qui taille depuis ses oreilles jusqu’au
diaphragme ? On dirait d’abord une caresse. Quelque chose de l’acier
chromé. Est-ce que la conscience résiste ou s’évanouit ? Est-ce que la
logique de la coupe ne serait pas de s’absenter. Se donner congé cycliquement à
chaque retour de faisceau. Ne plus y être que par intermittence. Comme
l’alternance de nuits et jours au ras d’un quotidien. Banalité du procédé mais
ça tient. Pas d’émiettement non. Rien que la chair. Sa substance régénérée.
Toujours. Ça fera taire l’effilé.
ooh, wow, where is this going?...I'm following. Those first 7 lines are killer lines in my opinion, ending with "No crumbling."
ReplyDeleteThanks Efi, where is this going .... well to be honest :I don't know! I have little time to think about it as I'm in Lyon (which is not home)and I'm preparing readings, poetry and book festivals ... hectic timetable !!
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