I sleepily recall Jackson Square at 6AM. It was in that moment, as I over looked the river, that I knew I never wanted to leave. That place pulls at my heart strings, grasps at my soul and settles into my bones.
I remember walking through every corner of that parish, in search of missing pieces, and every time I leave another piece of my soul gets taken away from me.
Dear New Orleans, you can have my bones.
Post a Comment