is it what we are?

I'm going to start posting some old writing I have done:

Scene 1, Act 1

Lo! our hair and plaster eyes,

   plastic sighs, red,  dark red,

                            bloody   lips,

apart from beaten brows, we dogs

              scuttled on floors, dancing streams

   of scattered sun, window panes,

like dogs,   like   bloody        dogs,

              all day like plays that run too long

   we stay unwashed