I feel you near me, breathing fast, your heart banging in your chest. I know it's you, I can smell you, your adrenaline, your smell is amplified by sweat and the wind. You're worried. About me. You're worried about me. I want to touch you; I want to feel you, your skin on mine. I can't reach out anymore. My arms won't move. I want to be heard. A hand grabs mine. It's your hand there, of that I'm also certain. You read my mind, into its depths. Your thick strong fingers grab mine as sweetly and strongly as always. But I know you're worried. You're tense, like the first time you took my hand. I want to see you; I want to see your face, to see your eyes. I want you to see mine, to see that I'm ok, to ease your mind. My eyes won't open. My body can't do anymore than it's already done. I want to be heard. The paramedics are working, bustling around me, you must be so frightened. I have to try again, make my eyes open for you. I can see your nametag. I can do this. A sea of blue looks back at me. I've seen your love for me before. But I've never seen you this naked. You give me strength; out in the desert, and now. Only enough to squeeze your hand, but it's more than I could muster alone. You look away, I guess the others are here to, I'm sure they're all worried, but you look back immediately. At me. Still naked, for the world to see. A smile slides across your face, and I think you heard me all along.