Tear that cactus out of the sand. It’s time to plant
something beautiful, but sassy. Something with roots.
You’re not just a pretty face. Maybe something like a rose.
Seductive velvet petals. That earthy smell. But thorns
where you’d least expect them. Yeah, that’s like you.
Or maybe a sunflower. Something big. Bold. Yellow.
Thick stem not thick skull. You could stand tall
anywhere you go. You could tell those farmer boys
they were wrong about you. You are pretty. You are strong.
On second thought, be that damn cactus. Carry your weight
and water with you. Keep what you’ve learned inside.
Keep it under that strong skin. Don’t worry
about being pretty. Show those spikes like scars
of where you’ve been. Grow a flower. If you want to. Grow
where they’d least expect it. Grow
where the sand burns naked foot soles. Grow.