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You gave me a flower, for me to love, for me to cherish, for me to hold your words with gentle stalks and soft petals.

An Iris for day one. I wonder what message you had to send that wasn’t already conveyed by your touch.

A Canterbury Bell next. I wonder which letter you had received, the one that was written in the early hours of the morning, with soft touches and sleepy smiles, or the one in the dead of night with passion and fire.

White Lilies, your love is pure. Pure wonder, pure love. Pure happiness, pure love. Pure devotion, pure love.

Daisy, yellow centres exclaim that you love me truly. That you will be there for me, truly. That you’re the one for me, truly.

Yellow Marquerile, when you were away. Come soon, for the bed feels empty without you. For the house feels empty without you. For my heart feels empty without you.

Wild roses, pleasure and pain. We’d given each other both in equal measure.

Yellow pansy, for you were thinking of me and I was thinking of you, and we were thinking, thinking, thinking.

Poppy, a symbol of freedom taken away. Taken away or given freely? Your lips on mine suggest the latter.

Charmer that you are, Hyacinths came next. You had charmed me with your lopsided smile, your infectious laughter, your silent tears.

Honeysuckle, devoted affection. Were we devoted? We never looked away.

Were we affectionate? We couldn’t keep our hands off. But more than that, we couldn’t keep our minds off.

Apple blossom, to declare your preference. Above all, you said. Above all, I replied.

Dahlias, for you were mine and I was yours and this bond could not be broken. Not by anyone else, not by us.

And lastly, roses.

Yellow, for we were bound by friendship and joy first and foremost.

White, for we were innocent and pure.

Pink, for our love was refined and sweet.

And red, to say I love you, I love you, I love you.