The man with crooked teeth
smiles
as he shifts his weight
from foot to foot
His skin is pallid and
with a greenish hue,
and yet the way he moves
makes him seem so
alive

But he looks dead

I can't decide if it
scares me or
fascinates me
Really, I just fell
disquieted

The man grins large and wide
with too many teeth
and tells me
as he sways:

“There once was a man
with no face
He felt empty
and alone
so he skinned the flesh
off another's face and
placed it on
his own
When they found him
dead
he was truly
a hollow man”

He says the last line
long and slow,
like he's savoring the taste
of the phrase
on his tongue
And so he laughs,
and in his laugh I see
the skin
stained and torn
slathered on the man's face
Cold and dead,
he lies in a pool of warm blood
The man reaches out to me
still grinning

I wake up