Petals
His breath tickles my lips,
He loves me.
His breath reeks of booze,
He loves me not.
His fingers interlock mine,
He loves me.
His fingers grab my wrist,
He loves me not.
His hands graze my face,
He loves me.
His hands leave a bruise,
He loves me not.
Finally, the flower has been picked apart.
Finally, the love is dead like her heart.