I’ve found my heart
in steel and stone,
in the cold hold
of a bridge alone.
A fence post stands
where lovers might lean,
in its shadow,
I find my serene.
Smooth, polished figures
under my touch,
whisper secrets;
it’s never too much.
I trace contours
with a lover’s grace,
finding peace
in the non-human face.
I fall in love,
not with eyes or smiles,
but with objects
that endure the miles.
A bridge, a post, a form so true,
in their silence,
my love’s renewed.
No fleeting glance or fickle heart,
with these objects,
I’ll never part.
Nightly dreams of concrete vows,
imagining life
with inanimate spouses.
People pass, but they remain,
stoic lovers,
devoid of pain.
They don’t whisper sweet nothings,
or pull me close,
but in their constancy,
I find repose.
Who needs warmth
when there’s truth in the cold?
In their unyielding arms,
my heart’s been sold.
So here I stand,
by this bridge at night,
feeling more
than just the cool moonlight.
They’re my anchor,
my steadfast guide,
in their presence,
my heart resides.