I could not sing to her, but I brought her music
when I found fresh fruit I left some on her plate
Flowers in green paper made their way to her door
chilled bottles of wine were placed on her table

all of these gifts left her pleased, but quiet
a soft smile only, no sparkle in her eyes

I left her some words on a tablet, then finally

Je vous aime pour vos imperfections, pas en raison d'eux