Glossy sight and glaring eyes,
dried with the air we breathe
and flows through our hair,
as gentle as a feather,
landing on a flower

The rich smell of a rose,
faded in the mixed scents of a bouquet,
growing so straight and tall,
and as live as the clear liquids it drinks

Loud and clear,
a cheetah sprints through a field,
leaping--
as swift as a tornado's path,
and so quiet, the cricket's roar

Buds blooming into sweet taste,
rasperry fondue,
dancing on your palette,
to the tune of jaw spasms
only last so long until next

Prickly, textured, soft, rippled,
fibers threaded over and under,
running down the seam
of skin and soul
satisfying on your fingertips,
beware of cacti