DANS LE DOS

Thick as the night on the outskirts, the rhythm rolls through your veins - predatory, confident, like an engine that never cools down. It's not about feelings, but about movement, about the heat of the street and the excitement of a winner who doesn't celebrate - he just makes another four million while others count their first. Words sparkle, the engine roars, the music is like smoke from rubber - acrid, sweet, real. And somewhere between steel and beat, a smile slips through: yes, life is war, but did anyone say you can't dance to the sound of gunfire?