PoetryInMotion
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We call ourselves kings in all that we do,
in all that we say,
We call ourselves warriors,
rebels against the tyranny of Life,
against the slithering hand of injustice,
Yet,
Lactic acid finds its way through me
and I welcome it.
With each salty drop that falls from my brow
I come closer to heaven;
more spirit than body.
My sternum stretches in all directions,