A flower dies tonight

Summer is in bloom. Memories come back in wafts of floral fragrance in the cool evening air. Clouds cover the scorching sun and I sit down to write this to you. A letter I will never send.

I picked a gardenia, held it gently before I put it in water. Perhaps only to kill it slowly. Gardenias were your favorite.

The white of surrender, the scents of intrigue. The blooms of peace. This letter never read. Your memory, for now, stays fresh in water.

The scent of gardenia dissipates through the night.