I’m the cactus man

My needs are few—

A bit of sun

A drop of dew

The second look

That no one’s owed—

Some subtle sign

My mind could hold

And with these crumbs

I would erect

A monument

To your neglect—

All scale and spine

And primed for drought

In hopes you'd find

My cactus sprout

I’m the cactus man—

A prick from birth;

Your backup plan

For what that’s worth

Surviving here

Outside my cave

Where all this sand

Reeks of the grave

Still I persist

Through storm and dust

Cursed with the skin

You dare not touch

But should you look

Beyond my doom

I’d show you this—

My cactus bloom

I’m the cactus man

Your kiss I crave

But this old face

Could use a shave

And these dry hands

I offer now

Are not ideal—

But would, somehow

Remove the stones

That weigh us down

And dry those tears

In which you drown

Then nurse these wounds

Till we're both healed

To leave you this—

My cactus field