Hot, wet, uncomfortable almost to the point of being painful, acclimating to the warmth after a long bout of cold. Seems to have been an entire season of shivering in the morning, forlornly, apprehensive about getting out of bed, and a cold clouding a clogged head. Now skin is washed in a thin steam of sweat, light and clinging, consistently raining, beaded on a brow just beneath hair. Consider cutting it off, all of it, hung over ears, down necks, in faces, brunette lawns curled, overgrowing cheeks, chins and mouths. Transition, change, leaps from laurel to laurel. Ethics cultivated into morals. Lifestyles changing over miles, aristocracy, agricultural superlative, slavery. There is outright truth and then word of mouth, like hot and cold, good and bad, right and wrong. Each thing and its opposite alive in the south.