Wife

He holds a cold flower in his freezing fingers, failing to find the face in his mind that has always lingered. But a slow smile spreads on his lips, when he thinks of their first flowery gift, picked with extra care, to match the light in her hair.
"Oh, thank you, it's beautiful"
"But not as beautiful as you"
"Aw, you're such a player"
"I only play by gentlemen's rules"
"In a game of hearts, you would win"
"In a game of cards, I'd be the fool"
And then there was her birthday, the flower laid beside her cake, but this time it was fake, because he couldn't stand to see her cry when it was time to throw it away.
"Aw, you really didn't have to"
"Darling, you know I did"
"and what do you mean by that?"
"Just that I wish I had more to give"
"Loving me is all I ask"
"and the only reason I've got to live"
And then there was the time he was going to get down on one knee, a budding flower covered the box that contained the ring, as he waited patiently. But she never came home that night, and he was left alone to cry.
"Baby you're so strong and brave . .
"You hid this from me all this time . .
"Because you knew you couldn't be saved . .
"You didn't want to ruin this life . .
"So now I lay this flower on your grave . .
And to me,
you'll always be,
My beautiful Wife."