if i can write you,
                                why can't i read you?

Watching her fade was like watching a dandelion go through its course.

A vibrant, colourful being draining of its colour;
fading into a paleness that was unrecognizable to its previous form.

The petals, thinning into light feathery specks, and eventually,
falling apart
drifting away unto their own individual path.

Like a dandelion seed, she too planted the pod for a new journey.
the seed
for the new life she created,
which she carried into existence
just moments too soon.

For it was then
that the grass became yellow,
the leaves
an assortment of orange and red,
and
the dandelion completed its course.

it wasn't the way that she said goodbye,
the way she
gently departed,
leaving no stone unturned.

it wasn't the way that she
did her part,
staying behind a bit longer
to make sure no lovers
were left unjust.

it wasn't the way that she wished all those well,
fixating them always
within her heart's reach.

it was the way she cared;
for she spoke with her heart
and she moved
with an aura of awareness
in every step.

it was the way she appreciated
all that was given to her,
years after
it was thought to have been detached.

it wasn't the way that she said goodbye,
but the way that her actions
ached,
"hello".