each random letter was picked with care
the sullen voice, the offset stare
yet she felt so out of control.
she had wild locks & violet eyes
she didn't know but was not surprised
you never knew what, or if, she was thinking.

she had this look about her, like she would rather be anywhere else, but you constantly felt under her attention, like you knew she was in this moment with you. she seemed constantly on the verge of letting something go (you didn't know what), but she's lingering in the doorway,  she's pausing to take the scene in, she's observing the dandelion for several minutes before blowing the seeds into the breeze.




if there is anything I've learned from her, it is to live in each moment, even if I'm detached--- though I'm detached.

At some point, we have to let go.