Everyday, every rose I plucked luminous petal after contrasting petal

With old spoken useless words, I destroyed beauty to see if he loved me or not-

 

Everyday he gave me a rose-

To tell you he gave me 721 roses would be an exaggeration

In reality he gave me 1 real rose and 718 pieces of chilled wax-

To tell you the truth he gave me 720 I wouldn't specifically all call roses-

For after about 6 maybe 7 there was no more color of roses-

 

So he gave me all types of flowers-

Everyday after that 7th rose all the types of flowers revealed all types of personalities-

But the thing was after the 719th flower he stopped the images of the new flowers in his mind- 

He gave up on making the stems into equal rows- 

 

On the 720th he instead gave me a 2 leafed clover-

When he handed it to me I grabbed onto one petal and still in his grasp was the other one-

The stem slowly fell and planted a bean stock for a new type of flower-

So you see when we both plucked the clover the luck wasn't there-

 

When we parted-

When we parted it, it came up from the petal alone in my hand- 

This clover singing sinfully soothing sounds of silent spoken songs-

Never had he said he loved me

But, never have I once said I loved he-

 

The leaves were as truthful as the number 16,

He was not the red petal I slowly killed by plucking it from its coursing green-

He was a leaf filled with stems, he was a leaf that was hidden behind many that just happen to fall into my hands-

 

A mistaken coincidence that I was trying to find a rose that told me at first he loved me not, but ended with he will always love you-

That after 1 rose there would be no need for any more.