Moving Pictures

Last night in the deep dark You put your hands on mine. It was a dream... Dream, Dream, Dream. Thud. I am awake, wholly alert, And your hands...they’re gone. I’ve awoken in a putrid house Where everything is dead. There are corpses lying about, And blood is running in the gutters Outside the filthy windows. Life isn’t like the cool, cleansing Touch of your hands; like magic On my flesh. The taste of vomit is in my Throat, hot coals are lodged Inside my blackened chest. And my heart! My heart? I haven’t one.