Critical, creative and digital writingEcriture critique, créative et numérique

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Light and dust

My breathing is loud, my lungs burn at each breath, The air of the city is dense with particles of dust, That I consume with avidity as I get closer to death: Time runs faster in here, the city for time has lust. I close my eyes, I have been blinded by light For all night, the city like a strike nigh unto my heart, An electric pulse that disrupts my sense of sight, I can't sleep, my room polluted by that urban art. Light and dust, I feel them, always, in me, Saccades of man's visionary sense of the city, The sun blindfolded by dust during day, a pity, The night perforated by light and made to be seen. And I, embedded in the environment, Embodied within my body, I have the sentiment That life is not so complex as to need a theory To explain why I die, slowly, breathing the poison of the city.