Dread of the night,
not the dark but the dreams,
Fear your touch isn't real.
Fear of the cough
in the market unmasked,
Dread of what follows.
Dread of the vote
flawed beyond count,
Fear of what follows.
Fear of the gunfire
deep in the hollow,
Dread of what follows.
Dread of being alone
for the rest of my days,
Fear I won’t.
Fear I will never see you again,
never again feel your touch,
