Last night you said good-bye to me for the last time,
Closed the airtight door behind you,
And flew out into deep space
Because that’s where you said you wanted to be
Without ever coming back.
I spent the night asking myself
How a man could spend the rest of his life
On his own in a capsule of artificial air and light;
No up, no down, no human touch again ever;
And how you would cope,
If you’d regret your choice.
And then I woke up.
The house is still empty of you
Like it was when you first left
And I still think of you every day
Every minute when my brain slows
And all I want to do is talk with you
And all I want is for you to be a baby again
On my knees, asleep, your tiny arms round me
Your breath regular, safe against my broadness.
Now is now, and you are a man
With your own life. Perhaps the dream
Is me finally letting you go,
No strings, no emotional blackmail,
My past no longer an intimidation,
As you once said it was.
Maybe you’re finally you.
But you always were.
You didn’t have to take off into the dark sky
To prove it.
For Oscar, on his 24th birthday