the constant gardener

you led me to the garden
i ate the apple
no shame, delicious

the fruit turned to flowers
when you spoke of their beauty
they blossomed in admiration

now each petal sobs with loneliness,
parched, in need of saturation,
wailing, wilting away to oblivion

a desolated garden of disappointment
flowers of sorrow in full bloom
each one with the same story

you planted them
you picked them
you left them to die