Zombies

I awake. There is a face
Pressed up against the glass,
How long it has been perched there
I don't know
Watching.

Her throat
Is torn; pale wires, dry
As brushwood, mat
And crumble on her neck, her eyes
Are blood, she does not breathe.

She wants to get in.

This is the moment
Of waking dreams, when nightmares
Press closer to reality; that word, 'impossible',
Rolls heavy and dull over the world, cracks
Like thunder. She is staring at me,
We are face to face. She is hungry.

On the streets below, ghouls
Stumble over the still cracks of the dawn,
Which catch the sky unawares,
And stain the clouds
The color of her eyes.

My heart is pounding. There are screams.
Her hand presses on the pane, I can see
Every blue vein distinctly through the glass
That still separates us.

Dark clouds roll across the sky, I wink
And say goodbye.