Flowers are not for lovers

What are flowers anyway,
at the end of the periwinkle day?

Do you think that in another universe
hulking sentient plant things shoved
people’s flowering parts
to their faces?
And brought them,
honey-dripping,
fresh-plucked,
to dates?

“Hey,
you look lovely tonight.
Here, a handful of
peonies
for your vase. “