Back in ’94, on a black glass screen
White little words in a waking dream
You came through the phone line
From another world to mine
Letters came with shells and sand
Watercolor from your hand
Pressed old poems, songs on tape
A fairy tale I couldn’t shake
I saw the whole sky change
A heart rearranged
You were light I couldn’t hold
A story left untold
Go well, go free
I carried you half my life
Now it’s time to leave
Then came black paper, white pencil lines
Folded doors to your darker mind
I stayed awake by the modem glow
Waiting for your name to show
I made a tape with my broken songs
Tried to pull you back where the light was strong
You returned quiet, bruised, and true
Said “Come to Africa, I’ll show you”
Durban opened in winter light
Red dust towns from an airplane’s height
There you stood past the customs line
Boots and sun and a smile held tight
Old Jetta down the coastal road
Your fingers brushed mine and the silence roared
Glow-star ceiling, bedroom blue
For one strange night, the dream felt true
St. Lucia morning, sand beyond the trees
Indian Ocean at our knees
Then west over hills, the sky aflame
That old song called Africa by name
In the orange grove, the evening bent
Like all my life it’s where I’d been sent
Your hand in mine, the day gone still
The Southern Cross above the hill
At the Joburg gate you whispered “Stay”
I heard it, then I walked away
Not because my heart was cold
I was young, and scared, and already sold
On maps I made, on plans I knew
On coming back instead of choosing you
A tiny voice said “Turn around”
But I let the plane leave the ground
One last call through a broken wire
Your voice was there, just behind a liar
Then no answers, no reasons why
Just Before Sunrise and goodbye
I searched for years through work and rain
Trying to name that missing pain
Wondering if you ever found your
Two stars for arms like Orion
Hamba Kahle, Haze
Go well, go free
Go well, go free
