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