And Again As Deep

[bamboosticks]

Now the chill is gone and I have forgotten warmth,
in their wake I crave carved hands,
hands to frame my every figure and corruption,
hands to catch the crisis within as it slips, turns
and spills across my vain attempts.
Faces fade from sketches
like night flakes, happily misting my fallen way.
Trick me deep
so the trickles in my beard
burn crisper and crown my neck.
Away, away I sleep
until the fallen path breaks too tightly
and catches along my stolen sheets.
Trick me deeper
and again as deep
until my knuckles are gone
replaced by knowledge
and dusty kisses.
Until my twitches crush me
beneath honest failure
and crystal intentions.