The Desert

The desert is no place for a woman.

Vacant and dry, like between her grandmother’s varicose legs,
I wandered for years until I saw the sweltering oasis of my own mind.
Like a magician, I pull the rabbit from my black top hat and I laugh…..

Only for a moment until I am in disbelief at my own ruse.

It was not a rabbit, but a sharp, thorn from the cactus I let prickle my mind with foolish thoughts of you.