My flowers wilt after two weeks. Three stems are left in the vase, three stems left from a meadow. Some flowers lost their petals, and some dried up, even though I changed 

the water very carefully every day and carefully cut the stems, I didn’t want them to scar

Fresh cuts and fresh water keep my flowers alive. To be honest, it is not a vase I keep my flowers in. 

I keep them in an old glass jar next to a half-eaten caramel forced back into its plastic foil but it will never look as perfect as before. 

Before I dug my teeth into burned sugar and let it stick my words together for the sweet,  buttery taste. 

The sweetness will pass, and my clumped-up words will vanish too. Their taste will remain my secret. 

The wrapping is creased and the caramel is oddly shaped, but those imperfections are barely noticeable from a distance.

The flowers, it was the first time I bought some for myself.