The faces crowd round,

calling, laughing; there,

by the bed.  Some, overhead.

Faces, teeth bared; discoloured 

reveal of white a sign

of malintent.  These

ghoulish masks, these snarling beasts:

nocturnal memory, night’s

rehash of her waking hell these days.

The faces crowd round,

looming, drooling; here,

in the room.  This room, her head.

Such ugly faces, revelling

in her distress.  They

come closer, press in

on the bed.  She can’t breathe, can’t

call for help.  Heart pounds, she weeps;

now a shaking, sweat-soaked leaf.  She sleeps.