I like to say I learned to walk on gravel
and in the summer the ladybugs would fall from my window seam
a jar with a hand-drawn skull and crossbones sat on the counter
next to the tapeworm I got from the neighbor’s pig
the bats made a home next to ours
and the cat fought a raccoon and was never the same
we burned half a forest for warmth, and the ash settled in my lungs
A visual investigation of family, memory and Southern American identity.