As my capscule plumetted to the ground I refused to feel fear. Instead I thought of you in your old room. The place you showed me the first time we were alone. Tequila always made you want to listen to records and make out. I remember your creaky wood floors and the chilly night breezes making your yellow curtains sway. You had two pairs of old headphones. We tangled up our curly chords. Ashes to ashes/funk to funky/we know Major Tom's a junkie.
I wish you could have see the white orange light, but I needed you there...in your room.