In Space

 

In outer Space,

no one hears you

skin your knee.

As you move through

the airlock towards

the spacesuits.

 

The alarms blaring;

someone yelling in

Russian, the claxon

ringing in your ears as

you try to remember your

training.

 

You remember the lift-off,

so easy and care-free,

“Par for the course” you said,

with a slight smugness curled

upon your confident smile

as you settled into orbit.

 

The weightless floating scurry

through the space station,

reminding you of your wedding

day and the weightlessness you felt

as you prepared to change

everything about your life.

 

You remember your wedding,

the long walk down the aisle,

your betrothed looking as incredible

as the day you met, filled with

audacious ambition for the future

and your lives together.

 

You notice the small scrape

on your knee as you step into

the spacesuit. It’s bleeding a little,

sort of, you don’t remember hitting

it on anything.

Will you ever remember, if you make it.

 

You slip the space suit on,

as Gregor checks the pressure,

he’s not going to make it.

It’s his fault you’re exploding.

You don’t hate him though.

Your training won’t let you.

 

Smoke is floating through the cabin.

Gregor’s eyes water as he

opens the airlock and you step through,

his tears floating up in the zero gravity,

you hold your hand against the window,

he meets your hand as you watch him disappear.