parkour

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My frisky feet are light and fleet
Sturdy soles skim tiles and concrete
Adrenaline courses through every fiber
And consumes me like a wildfire.

Over gaps, I leap and somersault
Over obstacles, I roll and vault
Spring and land with utmost precision
As I race towards my destination.

My hands cling to walls and ledges
As I push my body to the edges
But not beyond; I am no dimwit
A true traceur knows his limits.

But this is illicit, is it not?
I suppose it is—if I get caught.
How can I resist when I reside
In the traceur's Mecca, the City of Light?

This forbidden thrill is what I chase
Whenever I run a rooftop race
With companions or myself and I
Up high and away from unwanted eyes.

Oh how I relish nights like these!
When my skin is brushed by the midnight breeze.
With every step my soul takes flight
As I sprint below the shroud of night.

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