29 April 2012
A shaft of light sweeps through the gap, Leaps past the hinge in the door, Drenches the floor, the mess and the air, In a beam of brilliant white.
Drawn to that air are hazel eyes, Mouth agape as it's realised Dust is there, not only air.
Specks and flecks of many things, Hair and dirt and human skin, Metal shards so small but bright, Pencil shavings? Maybe.
It's hard to breathe when the mind thinks I breathe this every day. Shallow breaths come short and quick While eyes flit every way.
Can't see what lies in the fray, Only silver light, Turned and tumbled beauty, though, Will soon be gone with night.
Sighs escape as the view sinks in, Not long, or forgotten, Dancing grains sail through the air, On a beam of dancing light.
Dust: Is This What's Killing Us? • Opuss № I