I'm Not Going Anywhere I Promise by Jasmine Cooray

31 Days of Poetry: Day 12.

For the month of August I’ll be participating in The Sealey Challenge and attempting to read a book of poetry every day (or at least a poem or two), and every day I’ll be sharing a poem with you. If poetry isn’t your thing, a month isn’t too long a time, I promise. But if it is, I hope this series affords you an opportunity to discover some new favourites or revisit some old ones.

Today’s poem is ‘I’m Not Going Anywhere I Promise’ by Jasmine Cooray, which was published in her 2023 collection, ‘Inheritance’ (Bad Betty Press).

---

I'm Not Going Anywhere I Promise

you tell me, your arms around me like fleece.
I have done my best to harden against
all the love that came knocking, yet now
here you are, surrendering like a stranger
approaching the house of a ragged
woman with a rifle and a German Shepherd,
both hands open above your head.
You see her skinny frame, filthy nightdress
in the cold March light. You stand
steady in your jeans and brushed cotton shirt,
shoulders broad, eyes still and reassuring.
As I fill with dread of times to come
(maybe our flat, deserted, I'm sorry
on a paper bag; a hair on your jacket
too long to belong to either of us;
a red gingham tablecloth swept
to a crash of crockery; the back
of your head, becoming smaller), you remain,
still there at the gate. The sky is darkening:
you have turned your collar up, and now
I notice I am crying but your arms
have not moved from around me.
My belief, a small fire burning
in an attic in a ghost town.

---

Jasmine Cooray’s Inheritance is a collection I encountered last year when it was first recommended by day eight‘s poet, Tolu Agbelusi, and, for a number of reasons, it very easily found its place amongst my favourites.

I was so undecided as to which poem to share because so many would’ve been perfect: there are poems about grief and grieving that I love so much, and others about identity that are so fitting for our current time (and any other time, to be fair) but then I re-read ‘I’m Not Going Anywhere I Promise’ and I remembered just how much I love the way it reads like the scene from a romantic film, where the woman who has had her guard up against hurt and heartbreak can finally relax into arms that are both capable and willing to hold her. It’s just really lovely and I think a little love is always worth sharing.

See you on day thirteen,

Tasnim