I have the south in my veins- flowing like that murky water from which I was born. That dirty water that infiltrates the womb and fertilizes that damp dark place. The home. I grow, I grow, like a wild vagrant seed and so I survive. Decaying filigree graces the dilapidated facade of my mind.
I see beauty in my home. I see beauty within me. I am a child of this land.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
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