Cacti

Standard Disclaimers Apply.

It was by no means simple, the relationship they had. It had to be handled with care, gently, slowly, or one, or both parties would get hurt. Both parties had spines, thin and razor sharp, easily capable of drawing first blood.

Simple was an impossible thing. Elegance was even harder to come by. But strangely enough, love and hate were found easily. They were twined together, the both of them ever hating, ever loving, wanting and wishing. The brush of fingers on metal, the pooling of golden silk-hair on a toned abdomen, the gasps and groans that reached up to the ceiling before crashing back down on them in a tsunami of passion.

Like a cactus, they absorbed love through their roots, shot hate out from their spines, but together in close proximity, the spines only remained half-extended. Soothing each other, help each other, opening each other up in a wealth of yellow desert blooms. A symbiotic relationship.

And one day, they hoped that they would not have to thirst any longer. That they could rely on each other for their water, and instead of greedy roots and prickly spines, they could have supple limbs, and absorbent green leaves dotted with pink blooms, and ages of love bestowed within their trunks.