This time I am holding your hand while you sleep. If I die here, I will be buried beneath your hand in mine resting on my heart, your hair still shower damp beside my face. While off in imaginary time, I will tell you I am near by the way we breath together, a resonance of the possibility we are always here. Dreams brings back the dead. Whether it is you or I who should be first to die, this is what I believe to be the afterlife. So I am holding your hand above my heart as I close my eyes to sleep. Your body is the Earth.