Petals

Petals of flowers bought for her now fall. Yet why exactly they fall I know not. To begin at the start, she said, “Why not?” I smiled and laughed, surprised I had gall enough to ask my question and enthrall. I asked, “Will you be my lady?” and got exactly what I desired, but fought an inner yearning to give her my all. Later things changed, and the flowers felt, too, the searing salt at the corners of eyes, and imbibed it like some poison water in its vase, resembling the streams that grew on her jaded face after she would cry. Thus did die the flowers I gave to her.