I had a dream of drums,
red paint on the cave walls
of a man,
low chanting
of some foreign tongue.
I was trapped in my sleep,
my heart becoming hollow,
beating hard,
my body thinner,
shrinking fast,
my flesh becoming the flesh
of the painted man,
the skeleton man,
or perhaps,
it was his to mine.

I woke up scared,
woke up to whispers
from the dream.
You were there
beside me,
sleeping still,
unknown to the exchange
of my flesh to yours,
or was it, really,
yours to mine?