Cold storage
I locked my heart
in a steel drawer
have no damn
use for it
anymore
for anything
other than
a curio
relic
museum piece
stuck away
in an old
file cabinet
what pumps
the hydraulic
fluid now
through rusty pipes
sticky gate valves
silent chambers
cold as winter
is made of
brass
all nuts and bolts
levers
pistons
and pulleys
a tinker toy
machine
in a clockwork
universe
I visit my old
flesh and blood
now and again
just to read
the secret
messages
it scrawls
inside
the walls
of its metal
tomb
Tags:
Poetry