Southern Belle
i love the summer rippling
across my skin, the sprawl
of city into hills. i love
the intricacies of the shorelines,
their curves and frills and
flashes. i love denim
of most months and heavy
accents like honey. i am
warm-blooded; the salty desert
is in my bones.

it's not a privilege or a curse, not
a land of ignorance to be
discarded. there's more depth
than you ever gave credit:
that is your ignorance, your folly,
not the land's. you can't outrun
pleasantries (or unpleasants);
you carry the land with you, lining
your pockets. this will always be home.