when the spark in our relationship was first ignited, he gave me daffodils for they symbolised new beginnings and eternal life he said it seemed fitting, since the love between us should be treated with the same fondness and compassion as a new life, to ensure its longevity. “our love is spring,” he said, “it’ll end eventually, but that doesn’t remove the beauty of it.”
and when we wed, i held white tulips our eyes met, the sparkle in yours mirroring mine the message my bouquet held was only legible to you i wasn’t bringing flowers to the aisle, only respect, purity, honour, and love all the qualities our marriage would have
but when it died, we bought single chrysanthemums to place on the grave of our love and it seemed fitting, almost confirmed its death. what could’ve been better to place on a grave then the very flower of death
after all, spring had passed the daffodils had died, each petal withered away it was the end