I want to make you feel like a humid Southern night, where the Spanish moss drips from the trees like lace, and honeysuckle buds perfume the air. Sticky, glistening skin. Sultry and forever.
and fifty dozen mosquitos are sucking your body dry and cicadas scream so loud you can never sleep and watch where your honeysuckle ass steps or you’ll plant your foot on a pissed off copperhead
One person is from the south. One person isn’t. Guess which.