the way it is
I don't want her to be gone, but she is. The sadness that overcomes me, a certain kind of melancholy you realise you have run out of parents. that you can visit them both in a cemetery that my life is both emptier and fuller because she is gone I stood outside her bedroom window last night as the melodious harmonies from the Jamaah started "Mow lay ya sa" and for a moment I wished she were there, inside, waiting for me to come in but she wasn't and I was gutted.