i remember the fifth day of the sixth month,
when i kissed your cold body,
it lay in that ebony black coffin,
and i kept quiet, despite knowing you loathed the color black.

back to the day i saw you helpless for the first time,
you fell while walking, you drooled, and you forgot faces.
but you always said, "the day i forget you, you know...it is time"
i brushed the hair out of your face, and held back a tear.

when they said "few weeks more", i cupped your hands in mine.
i looked at them, they were frail and cold and soft,
twisted from the adversities you've faced.
this time, you tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

2 weeks later when i sat beside you, praying,
you asked who i was and why i was watching you sleep.
i ran out of the room, and screamed into a pillow.
it was time.

it was time; to let go of my muse
                                     of my home
                                      of my solace
it was time for the hardest part - goodbye.

today, as i stand near your grave, i smile
i place daisies and share a meal with your ethos.
you were an enigma of a women,
hallelujah, i say.