My eyes open wide as I wake, panting,
some say that dreams have deeper meaning,
that they are cries from our subconscious.
I never put much stock in such ideas,
but I feel strangely compelled to recount this one to my love.
My Annabel.
Shaking her gently,
I wonder why her flesh has the chill of virgin snow.
My thoughts are disrupted as reality hits me like a bolt of lightning
and I scream.