A Story Of Grief
Written By
Poet and Photographer J H Martin @ A Coat for a Monkey
ကဆုန်
February –
I hear you
Coming up the stairs
Cursing my name
Hammering on the door
Accusing me of
Sleeping with money-changers
Bank tellers
And a hundred other women
I have never even met
February – this is not you
This is not the December I love
February – this is January
I can see its grief in your blank eyes
And I can feel it
In your wild punches at my face
Tour scratches down my cheeks
And in your savage bites to my chest
February –
I know that
I was there too
Holding his hand
Carrying his body
Opening the door to the pyre
That is why I will never fight you
No matter how many bottles
You smash over my head
No matter how loud you scream
And no matter how hard you kick me
No – all I am going to do
Is hold you and protect you
Not from January
Not from your orphaned memories
But from the bleach
And from the balcony
That is February
It is not and never will be you
Text © J H Martin
J H’s Previous Contributions To Edge Of Humanity Magazine
Life On The Irrawaddy’s Muddy Waters
