Saturday, March 20, 2010

"el boxeador" o "derrotado"

I remember a time spent in the ring. The taste of blood in between my teeth. A flash, an unexpected surprise and with eyelids closed I opened my eyes, again. (Did I see you?) I was a boxer, once, but I put the gloves up because a human defeated is a cycle repeated. I remember a time spent in the ring. The texture of bruised knuckles wrestling with the cloth inside my gloves. A punch and an extended arm. Sweat falls from my brow. (Did I hate myself enough?) I was a boxer, once. I was. I put those gloves up because a human defeated is a cycle repeated. I gave it my all, but it hurts to continually fight and fall. Someday, I'd like to return to the ring with gloves on.

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