Can you make all of the iron shavings point the same way? Can you make them sing? Can you make them sing beautifully? Can you touch my lower back? Can you sing to the shavings? Can you stand up straight in front of them, your back to the audience, and conduct them with a steady hand? Can you cook something filling? Can you say “I love you” without it sounding a little bit fake? Can you soothe some wayward shavings backstage before the big moment and wipe their nervous tears away with your shirtsleeve? Can you speak softly and firmly? Can you get along with my mom? Can you say “I love you” without it catching in your throat? Can you sit in silence with me happily? Can the shavings trust you? Can you tell me that it’s going to be alright when I wake up in the morning? Can the shavings trust you with their lives and their hearts and their voices and will you do right by them? Can you kiss me?