if my body is a china chest
a french doored armoire
i place my tchochkes upon
knick knack racks
old elevator gates
plunge them deep into storage
the bottom of the well
swallow metallic stabbing
whole and choking
clutching claws in my sides
screams inside
again
swallow them whole
like a wood chipper
a machine eats steel
while the leatherbound face tells
a tale of time
and cogs churn in rust
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