Here, amid the cold flat solid shapes,
Of plates, and stacks, and grips and bars
Of movement, knowledge, effort and breath
I feel safe, at last.
Here, judgement lives only in the weight and the strain
The heft and the shift and the breath and release.
The iron's hands embrace my own as I pull and lift and push
Learning through mass and gravity
It never condescends, it never confuses
It promises nothing other than itself
Exhaustion, strength and peace