metal lover

Adam,
You're the only person i know
who plays in train grave yards
who loves the touch of metal

i see you in
             wind chimes
                   and
             bike frames
                   and
             door knobs
                   and
fire arms

On the days when you're not
mechanical with your feelings
i imagine you find purpose in
              record players
                     and
              parachutes
                     and
               bubble wrap
                     and
sand storms

But on the days when you are
when you are mechanical with your feelings
do you ignore the city lights
within the fences of your finger prints?
do you stop hearing
the ocean in your veins?
do you bend paperclips
to fill these spaces?


Adam,
            does anyone
                ever
               really
have motive?
Do you look for these answers
in train grave yards?