Yellow Roses ((-))

I stand before tens and tens of thousands of flowers, so many that it is impossible to encapsulate the entirety of the vision in a single, prolonged glance. The multitudes spread out before me, an explosion of every beautiful color and shape I have ever known, and they beckon to me -
Stems and stalks and petals of every size and variety, dancing in the gentle breeze, each single entity behaving as one, each with the same calling, the same persistence that I could choose and have any single one of them.
Despite the distraction of the prismatic lights erupting from every corner of vision, I find my eyes drawn to a singular, solitary yellow rose, a rose directly tied to but inexplicably different than all of the tens of thousands of those surrounding it.
The yellow rose, while so striking and radiant, a pristine dream that, although wilted, far eclipses the beauty of all those around it, but it is not that beauty that forces this particular one to the very core of my being, no -
It is the delicate lines of a knowledge and clarity that entrances me. Glowing within from a light completely independent from the rest of the field of flowers, this yellow rose illuminates truths of life and love that no mortal man could know were it not for her. When every petal was aflutter with permission, an entire sea of choices, I choose this yellow rose, she not willing to throw herself to the wind, in the hopes that I can convince her to fall into my arms.
Although she be thorned and dangerous, I select the yellow rose, knowing full well the risk - but I pray the gloves on my hand and the honey on my lips provide persuasion to this one, specific rose.