Standing in the cup, many of them.
Different they were , in forms, in colour , in type, in effect produced.
They should have found it difficult to choose.
They should have found it difficult to wait to be choosen
“Pick me , pick me, pick me ” they all shouted
Looking at them , silently nothing seemed different.
They w ere all pencils,crayons-words or things.
Images, sounds, photos, envies, dreams, wishes, us.
In between time , things changed though ;
From the time thought began till the time hand decided.
This very moment was the begining of awareness.
Deciding , a process which caused frisson.
A feeling, an envy , a taste, a desire , disgust…
A curve , a smell, a note , death,lust, lost…
An intention , a message, a moment, pathos…
Again…a game, a lure , crypic clue, sensationflow;
That is words , then ;
Guilt, fear, love , courage, responsability…
more words ;
Finally, a creation
My creation…
Didier de Masso.
