I fell in love with a dandelion once, inhaled her scent—the smell of cut grass, cotton, milky musk. I would press my face to the soft
wool of her skin, her body innocent and transparent. I would sneak off to see her sphere shine in the spotlight
of the sun, would lie in the grass beside her for hours. I ignored the rashes that started to form, the sneezing and gasping for air.
I thought she was just capturing my breath. When my eyes became itchy, filled with water— I thought this was a love spell.
When her white hairs started to fall, when the wind carried her hands and feet away, I chased her florets for miles trying to clasp her feathered legs
in my hands like fireflies, but she could not be contained. Her body was a kite thirsty for sky, I, a cloud ready for rain.