Cacti

We grew in a dust bowl
Sere land with mountains of sand
Your root touches mine,
leisurely without me knowing

I was aware of your spines;
of your soon-to-bloom flower
I was aware of your pleasing light green
Distracting me from the pathetic deep tone of beige around me

We were bare under the sun
While our roots were occupied;
stretching far,
longing for water

I was blinded by your flower
And before I know it
your spines cut deep through me,
along with your roots who took all of my sources