Every house in the kudzu has DNA and the curdled
milk of the long-dead nursing ghosts. On the bayou,
you do not buy a house: you marry into the
bloodline…that sits on a road of red clay. Once you
cross the threshold, your throbbing yoke becomes
the pulse of the house, at the end of the road…and
you become the corpse with lungs, breeding life
into the red clay.
Rated for Everyone
Every House Has DNA
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