When I grow old,

I will go to all the flower

shows. I will, of course

bring a cactus just to

piss’em off though.

But that’s not what it’s

really for you know.

It’s a ledger,

for all our kisses,

our quarrels, our hugs,

our fusses. Accounted

dearly for keepsakes.

And these prickly

ones will live

by our bedside

to remind me

that I married

the most amazing women

who loved & chewed

more than anyone

ever could. While

the roses wilt, a Cactus

persists. It’s just

a bit thorny like me.

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