If love is a flower,
let it be manufactured
and plastic,

so that it may never die.

For, though beautiful,
a flower is fleeting,
born wilting

and doomed to an early death.

To a younger me,
nothing was more intoxicating
than the scent

of a dying flower,

but I am older now
and I far prefer the comfort
of plastic bouquets

and long lasting loves.

Photo by Evie S. on Unsplash