There’s six: three pairs of flavours (plus
their antis, the inverse always lurking in essentials),
then divisible by colour charge, named strangely for

another rule of three. The force is absolute, bound
invisible down at the heart of things. It charms
their bodies into structure with a secret swap of gluons

at the white quiescent centre; constant, silent,
as a quasar’s roiling node. Really. Look it up.
There’s authority for you to turn to, eyeless, blank,

its knowing total. Top result: Quantum chromodynamics
calls the rift of essential force, renders it intelligible,
citation links at the bottom of the page.

The model is a glyph, math the sounding line;
another composite of attributes that broke
from symmetry. There’s some private logic rippling

underneath its skin, but your head turns back upon
itself, switching tabs, flicking to the webcam feed
of your face lit by the pattern of its own reflected light.