Back and forth, back and forth

Until the petals are gone

"He loves me, he loves me not"

Or maybe he refused to choose

So I keep plucking petals

Then leaves

Then bits of stem

Until he asked of me,

"Give me your flower, then I'll love you."

So I scraped and gathered everything discarded

In trembling hands, held out

He said,

"This isn't a flower,"

Took it anyway

Leaving me not even a seed.