My sunflower flourished in his each hello,
It cringed in his every goodbye.
Its leaves were the curve of his delicate lips,
Its water: his undying smile.
My sunflower throbbed in his chocolate-brown eyes,
It cherished the sound of his voice.
It fluttered whenever he whispered my name,
And when he felt happy, rejoiced.
My sunflower lived for his some-day’s return,
It followed his dwindling scent.
It pined for his velvety, cinnamon skin,
And envied wherever he went.
My sunflower’s petals are withered and frayed,
It has but a thin, tawny stem.
Its leaves have gone dry from the tears that it’s cried—
It has wilted waiting for him.