Louisiana Humidity

louisiana humidity chokes you. it takes a hold of your lungs and squeezes tight. my parents didn’t consider this when they moved into our home of Bones and Skin. I dread the moments of my red flushed face and beating heart from a moment outside. the south has not been kind to those of us who don’t evolve to Breathe around the Heat. it walks over us, beats us. kills us. and then declares our broken and butchered lungs a Testimony to its Strength. i wonder if it is actually revealing its Cowardice. louisiana humidity does not get lighter with the winter months. there is no reprieve from the overbearing moisture. it seeps into my pores at night, even as our ac bill robs us dry. my mouth is Open. Open. please, God, it is open. words pour out of which i don’t recognize. uniformity is valued here. where boys wear collared shirts, and men wear Pointed Hoods. girls sew their skirts and women sew their sins. there has never been, and there will never be, overlap. the humidity will take care of that if the burning crosses haven’t already. i try not to Love things here. they Melt. my affections are too warm, and the heat grows jealous. ripping smooth skin and pink lips out of my Fingertips. instead, i watch the wax figurines from a distance as they fight against their dripping bodies. i try not to miss them. louisiana humidity grows on a person. i no longer fear the Noon Sun. my toes gladly curl in the green grass. the south has the most gorgeous grass. i fear those who watch from shadowed windows, their cold eyes grazing my skin. my face flushes red again, but now accompanied with boiling blood. enjoy the heat. enjoy God’s sun. why will they not come outside. the humidity Comforts, what is to fear?