I hate daffodils, because you know
and her face fell down a little as though not quite convinced of her own words
they are false and only mentioned when people
what? she thought, irritably
when people want to be poetic

But you like them, you told me once
and he was sure, and he was right about that
so I don't see why.

You never see anything, that's because you are too much-
too much yourself. and myself, too
because you are living in your own mind an awful lot of the time
what time?

Love, don't upset me, I mean what I say
and says what he means
and if you don't like them it's okay to me
only to me
and if you do like them, well I get you some.

                                *In the meantime, while his lips are moving, she begins
                                                                               to see words coming out of
his mouth and forming a beautiful little cloud above his head. She sees
                                                                                        them, does not hear them,
                                                                    circling. He is beautiful in every way, and daffodils are not
                                                                                                                                        the matter of this. Not at all.