A transparent pulse is moving a hand broken with too much testing of the formula of man.
A stalactite through which no drop ever flowed prisides over the reconstruction of the hand.
But then the hand turns breaking for the last time,
Towards its transparent pulse,
And finda, without trying,
The formula it was looking for.
If all transparence were a pulse and all the rest were a hand
The formula of a man would not be needed.
