Light is my oxygen

Modifié le : 2019/08/08

Con­trast is typ­i­cal in the city. From con­crete bleed­ing, we move on to the soft siev­ing of trees about to fall asleep, only to return, in the end, to the pharaon­ic angles of the buildings.

My neigh­bor­hood is a good exam­ple of this. All you have to do is reach a small park two blocks from my house to enjoy the peace and qui­et. All you have to do is go back to the met­ro­pol­i­tan area to be remind­ed that our debts can­not be paid with the sun.

My body, sens­es, and thoughts record these visu­al, cli­mat­ic changes. Despite the poor air qual­i­ty, I widen the lungs, widen the iris­es and let the oxy­gen of life flow through me.