Even breathing will become a sellable commodity soon.
I’ve sat stagnant for far too long,
my lungs have forgotten how to expand,
my heart, how to beat.
My hips complain of rust,
and my back is wailing like the bow of a ship.
It’s time to grow back out of infancy,
I’m happy to crawl before I sprint again.
– morning run reflections
-W.E.
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