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.