In the House of Mourning

I forgot to sanitise my hand because love taught me to reach out without thinking twice.
My mask came off because reflex taught me to talk to you without one.
These are strange times
When protocol and instinct collide.

I have never seen a heart break so many times in one place for reasons more than one.
I have never both felt the honour of holding tears and hoped that I have not infected them as they may have infected me.
Only God, only God.
I have never walked through the corridors of this house and felt the valleys of the shadow of death conflate in this beloved kitchen as we broke bread with each other and prayed for the blood of Jesus to wash the viruses away.
In another room,
someone else gambled away all his money and swore to meet the end-times with alcohol and forgetting.

Amidst the circus, I miss you.
Your love, a cathedral.
Your legacy, this echo.

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Amanda C. Tongper Written by:

Poet from Shillong

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