Flowers,terrifying flowers.
A beautiful corpse,
plucked in the season of reproduction,
severing the cycle of life.
From eternal renewal
to something consumed.
No fate feels abandonment
more fiercely than the flowers.

The first to use flowers as a metaphor for love—
how I long to know you,
and admire your genius.
To pursue the process, not the result;
brief and fleeting,
and still adored by many.