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Achilles
Myth's river - where his mother
dipped him, fished him, a slippery
golden boy flowed on, his name on
its lips.
Without him, it was prophesied,
they would not take Troy.
Women hid him, concealed him in
girls' sarongs; days of sweetmeats,
spices, silver songs...
But when Odysseus came, with an
athlete's build, a sword and a shield,
he followed him to the battlefield,
the crowd's roar.
And it was sport, not war,
his charmed foot on the ball...
But then his heel, his heel, his heel...
.
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