Flowers for Smiles

Her diseased breath rolled out of the car and onto all of the flowers,
It was irresponsible of her to ruin our day trip,
the floral field I had found was for her.

Her sundress was new,
wrinkling in the leather of my passenger seat.
I hated the print.

She had asked for a surprise
and her eyes told me not to ignore her this time.

I wanted her to leave me, desperately,
but I wanted her to smile more.
She deserved it.

But we fought on the way out to the daisies or posies;
they were not roses.

The argument made her horrible
and I hated her again.
When she is angry, I assume she is sick.
She was terminal then.

The trip was ruined and crumbled
into another failed attempt to remind ourselves of love.
I’ll suffer through her cancers until she smiles again,
that might give me the courage to leave.

Perhaps I’ll just surprise her with a vase of flowers next time.
That might not upset her as much.