which [au dont]—will be closed up—folded up in an unthinkable beginning of Being. It is unthinkable for its lack of any possible economy, for the faulty framing of its space-time, for its apprehension that is imperceptible by all the senses: for its advent prior to all saying. The Being of rnan will be constituted on the basis of a forgetting: of the gift of this from which of which he is. Beginning with the void, on which he constructs hirnself like a bridge. All propositions, and, more generally, the logos, work in this way.
But, to make this bridge, man needed matter and, for the void to be, matter must first have occupied it. Would this vacuum, of man and of man's, be the abhorrence of nature? In order to create it, he needed her [nature]' When man hollows out the first site, he uses the matter that was in place there to hollow it out and to surmount it. He and she—likewise and differently—will be closed up—folded up around a certain void wrought from what he takes from her irrecoverably.
Since he uses the first exchange between them to work out their separation, how could he return (anything) there except in the arbitrariness of a construction? He will be able to come and go indefinitely over the bridge, with nothing happening there but what will lead to, or will lead back to, his own project.
Built on the void, the bridge6 joined two banks that, prior to its construction, were not: the bridge made two banks. And, further: the bridge, a solidly established passageway, joins two voids that, prior to its construction, were not: the bridge made the void. How not suspend that toward which it goes, that toward which it returns, in a serene awaiting?
In (the) place of the first receptacle—of him, or of her—in (the) place of their first "meeting," there is, now, void. To pass over it, from his side, in any case: a bridgeway. This bridge is for re-turning: the first empty envelope, the envelope of the void,