I stand in a field amongst flowers,
A sea of red surrounds me.
In the middle of the sea,
A single white blossom.

This single blossom,
A flaw on the red perfection.
In that delicate blossom,
I see you.

I touched that white flower,
My fingers lightly on the petals.
Soft perfection against my skin,
I want you closer.

My knees touch the dirt,
I reach for the stem.
The hidden thorns puncture my skin,
You have hurt me again.

A drop of blood stains a petal,
The white turns to red.
The flower disappears,
And you have left.

Still I long for that blossom,
Yet I move on through the field.
Every blossom looks the same,
Each one looks like you.

Each one is different,
Yet in everyone a similarity.
No matter which I turn to,
I am cursed to see you.