First a picture with the word, then the picture without: the sequence begins to blur. Is that enough to lead the way out of the labyrinth: the blind alleys and the isolation each one of us lives individually, with no hope of community, solidarity, synthesis or vision? ...is this drift to the more-than-one of community enough to repel the divide-and-rule of exploitation? Freedom claims the summer storm-"que s'arrogent"-not the other way around: this not a story of metaphoric storms producing freedom, this is not the utopian freedom to which metaphors confine us, made of an idealism that glorifies conflict rather than addressing it. Freshness unfurls in a snake, or in blond hair, each metaphor entwined in the other, and in the leaves of the palms. fraîcheur d'un serpent blond désormais le palmier épris de ta chevelure the freshness of a blond snake forever the palm tree hooked on your hair Picasso's concentric curves on the next page of "Présence" now also look like hair, with fingers or a comb running through it.