A Bouquet of Ignorance

They took turns throwing flowers to
the Earth and questioning their own mortality.

They both threw yellow roses –
hers made it on top, his fell below,

it was the first to fall off the stack.
Somehow it became that the

equivalence of flowers
was measurable to the amount of love;

but no one stays long enough
to watch them wilt and rot

after they gush over them
at the office

Or wonder if they’re sympathy flowers
Or I’m sorry I hit you flowers
Or I’m sorry I slept with your sister flowers.

No one wants to look down
that far and see the end

to their life and relationships.
And so all these people dressed in black

threw in red roses for love.

But they two,
with the yellow ones

never noticed their difference.
All he saw was a beautiful woman

at her worst,
and all she saw was flowers.