Carving and Searching

I keep crouching in remnants of him

Of your memory laying all folded in remnants of mine

To carve deep enough to see your neck's open pulse

I take whatever it gives

Your youth, I take whatever it gives

Am I the last, am I the one?

Until you speak it my dreams will be real

His left right arm pushes and pulls me so far

And I channel something more

And I feel it spear right through my fingertips

And I bless those crooked arms

Wrap their limbs around me