He wrestles with the idea of the struggle.

He believes his opponent is the world

he imagines inexhaustible.

Believing himself powerless, his own image

is exaggerated, every gesture a minute lost,

until his life is reduced to a night,

the parameter of a bed.

Sleep is his perfection.

But the day, immeasurably long, is the absence

of sleep. An old antagonist, its eyes painfully

familiar, challenged it refuses the challenge,

for sleeplessness is its perfection.

—Nick Campbell


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