This where I am at the moment I pull myself together; it's all done, I make a sign, the mouth says not one word more, we understand each other, but that makes my grief explode: I'm left so alone and black when it vanishes.

I am there, no doubt about it, but I miss it. (20)

Cixous here mourns the loss of the/her father,

which seems to be a contradict her "feminist" project

to read it that way would miss so much

difference would be lost

sameness

instead

we could perhaps

think about the masculine/the/her father

as having the potential to loose its bonds, to understand the feminine

so that

in the end

I can say kiss off kiss off to death . . . inside we shall have stopped dying (23)