It was a such a beautiful flower when I crept onto someone's driveway to collect it. It must have been freshly fallen, still lush and supple with its brilliant pinky reds and electric purples.
I took it home.
And watched it die.
Watched its showy splendor wither away.
It didn't take long.
Less than a day.
Its sensuality evaporating like rain on a hot day, filling the air with the humid death of flowers.
Leaving behind only a wilted memory of the O'Keefe it once was.
Leaving behind only a shadow.
Rest In Peace.