{Written w/o the prompt, at the same time, and kind of fits}

Thirsty almost twins

But only one has supplicants willing /able to be burnt

Their limbs reach to the rain gods

Renouncing water

Parches your kin

They’ll give to grandma and grandpa cactus not knowing where real grandma and grandpa went.

They’ll grow spines, and quills, and barbs, and venom, which you’ll begrudge, not believing in water for your kind.

Nevertheless their limbs pass by you,

In the armchair muttering (think it is) ‘Loose lips sink ships’.

Their limbs feel the burn,

After sun IS rain.

{Hoover Dam - Oct 26,1936 - waiting for melt

Mojave Preserve - Oct 31,1994 - waiting for rain}