City

City

The city, being full, is empty.

Cars, shops, objects, money, buildings, roads, signs.

Horns, fumes, sicklysweetsmells, filth.

Metres, centimetres, millimetres.

Hours, minutes, seconds, fractionsofseconds.

Fractionsoffractionsofseconds.

Fractionsoffractionsoffractionsofseconds.

And the infinite space between.

Full of everything.

Full of nothing.

Empty.