Like a Diplomat Leaving

She leaves
like a diplomat—
no flinch, no farewell,
just the precision of presence
withdrawn
like tide from a shore
that no longer sings her name.

No drama.
No door slam.
No final word wrapped in fire.
Only stillness—
the kind that speaks of completion,
not absence.

She mastered the art of quiet exits,
of unthreading herself
from spaces that once felt sacred
but have since forgotten
how to hold her light.

There is no need to explain.
She doesn’t offer reasons—
she offers peace.
A peace so profound
it unsettles.

You’ll look around and realize
she is no longer there.
Not because she vanished,
but because she chose
a higher ground
without asking for permission.

Her departure is its own benediction.
A sacred goodbye
without sound,
without spectacle.
Just grace,
rippling behind her
like silk in the wind.

And somewhere,
in a place you cannot follow,
she is seated again—
among wild things,
among her own,
where the soil speaks truth
and the sky remembers her name.

She leaves like a diplomat—
seasoned in sovereignty,
rich in resolve.
Not out of anger,
but alignment.
Not out of fear,
but freedom.

And the silence she leaves behind?
That’s not emptiness—
that’s elegance—-

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