I like how this was sectioned and formatted. It reveals your proficiency in guiding the viewer to read the piece in the particular way that you want them to.

For the first part, I think that most, if not all of us in this site, could connect with this. It could be about a person, a place, an event - whatever it is, that leaves after it has touched us so deeply, writing about it is the way we could hold on to its memory longer. It also keeps us from feeling like we've gone insane hah. Because as time goes on, we become uncertain whether it has happened or not. If it was real or something that our minds made up.

"you planted petrichor in the air tonight;"

Verses like the one above is what makes your poetry stand out and enjoyable to read for me personally. It makes the reader think. How does one "plant" petrichor? Why? Your word choice is delicate and well thought out, I could tell. For me, I interpret petrichor here as a kind of warmth like the speaker is comforted by what has been offered by whoever they're referring to, even if they know it is only a momentary thing.

"wrapping wildflowers and lilies
in loose ribbons to breed(...)"

I just want to point out that this is another example of your interesting choice of words. "Breed" is often associated with animals as opposed to plants, much less so when you're talking about the more decorative ones like lilies. Curious how you bring these concepts together. You then pair this image with "loose ribbons", another indication that the speaker expects that this moment would not last and maybe they're okay with that now.

You should write and post more often. It's a delight to read and try to unravel your poems.

This is very beautiful, Mark. To me it is a sweet message of love and for some reasons it gave off some sparks of hope.

"you planted petrichor in the air tonight;

wrapping wildflowers and lilies
in loose ribbons to breed
something other than

…

desperation."

^ I know this is half of the piece, but this is the half that really made me stop. The whole thing collectively tore me apart, in a strange sense of imagining too much about the piece, but it also gave me an interesting perspective to something totally unrelated. Thank you for writing.