Wilt

I've spent hours plucking petals off of flowers

It's this sod preoccupation I occasionally do

Odd or even, in or out of season, there isn't any reason 'cept that love can be cruel

When you laughed it was heaven and a half

Your merest mention struck a chord like Rachmaninoff

If that's too aural, a little bit too floral, I'm man enough to recommend I go pluck right off

There's a flower pressed up to the window and it's got an unquenchable thirst

A little sunlight and crowd-sourced affection and the clouds may just burst

Maybe one day I'll break the gray rainbow

And grow you out of my mind

But until that time, honey, don't be surprised if I wilt