Achilles

Studying The Iliad, I often feel its hero, Achilles, is quite the boy.

Achilles

As blond as the sun,
cheeks burdened
with freckles,

he stabbed at his ball
with a butter knife
fliched from the drawer

momma told him
never to open,
popped it and the air

smelt like rubber.
Those other boys,
he thought,

his eyes glistening
with heartache –
those other boys

only love me 
for my ball.

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