I know these are only dreams. I know these days are long past. Furthermore, I wake to a dream in which Hammer’s breath has stopped, and mine with it, and hearts have gone to a quiet sunny meadow with the sweetest little cottage in the middle, with a mill wheel and a stream. Our bodies will lie tangled until they become earth, like roses twining, so closely there is no beginning and no end, and only the shades of beauty that were their growing. Every dream I ever had as a child has come true, simply because Hammer loved me. Perhaps this one will too.

Hammer & Air