The speaker makes a big, generous promise: an infinity of roses, offered to someone they love. Roses are the classic gift of romance, so multiplying them without limit suggests a feeling too large to measure. The strange part comes in the second line, where the speaker says you can't "blame the gravity of love."
Gravity here does double duty. It's a force that pulls things together, which fits the way love draws two people toward each other. But gravity also means weight, seriousness, something heavy. So love is both an attraction nobody can resist and a burden that carries real consequence. Either way, the speaker says, it isn't something to be held against anyone. Love simply happens to us.
The mood is tender but slightly defensive, as if the speaker is excusing their own overflowing devotion. The title's mention of a "flawless image" and the quotation marks around "infinity" add a dreamy, almost idealized tone. Judging by the words alone, the poem feels like a small, confident confession.