by Emma Meng
If I could count the days
Your prickles caught my gaze
And I thought to myself
Up on that bare bookshelf
Do you need some water?
Shall I wait until it's hotter?
What sort of desert do you prefer?
My shelves or another?
But then my gaze drifts
And soon attention shifts
Another day, another drought
My bad, Torch Plant
Emma is a senior at Chatham University in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania studying sustainability.