I remember still when you said to me that Saturn was a lonely planet.
I had found an old digital telescope in my grandfather's apartment,
it was an excuse to invite you to walk with me the desert night,
and to wish upon the stars like actors do in holo-vision.
I didn't know then you knew more about the future
than those mythical time bandits
in permanent lockdown
the old timers talk about
in the commons.
The truth, some rumors say, is that they're really cyborg-terrorists.
You know, the ones that bombed the memorial
at the Lunar landing.
Such an unsignificant crime
and such an inhumane punishment.
They say they disassembled
all their robot parts
and placed the rest in cryogenic chambers,
after performing the memscans
that involved them in future acts of terror.
If you ask me,
pre-emptive profiling
is the only error,
the only time crime.
Anyway, yes, I feel terribly alone
as we go around this salty ice-ball.
But I'm still whole,
and my spirit still remembers
as I gaze upon that planet
with a strangely joyful sadness.