Primavera

He picked

her

daisies

freesias

jonquils

but never

roses

he sent her

sonnets

photographs

postcards

but never

letters

she wilted

with the 

daisies and

the freesias

and the 

jonquils until

9am every

wed

nes

day

she gave him

her innocence

and any

remaining

atom

of

what

she had

left to give

he never

wrote again.

spring

passed

and the

daisies and

the freesias

and the jonquils

became

flowers she

pressed in

the sonnets

and the photo

graphs ad

the postcards.