Certain flowers come drenched in sex, like certain fragrances. The passionflower – Passiflora – is most definitely one of those flowers. Practically pornographic in its elaborate architecture – not blatantly so like a calla lily’s cloaked protuberance, more in the sense of voluptuous excess, bold and brazen and come-fuck-me fashion. There’s nothing very subtle about the passionflower, and perhaps that’s why I’ve never grown one. Despite ample evidence to the contrary, I’m a subtle girl. Yes, he whispered, a lover of subtlety…
