Stay with me, somehow,
and see the world as I see it,
pretty and dreary,
though more dead than alive,
and squint your eyes into the sizzling desert,
riddled with hollow bones,
and look further to the flowering cacti;
then maybe you would see me reflecting back
in its fruit and know that it is my life;
I tempt death's grip,
but he cannot reach one so destined to survive
regardless of such extremes of hot and cold
or of such arid landscapes,
but I musn't sip at the clouds searching for water,
and maybe I'd admit I've tried,
so stay with me, somehow,
and discover me for yourself.