I am from cement, from hair grease and saran wrapped chairs
I am from the residue of duct tape peeled back from cracked plaster (grey, dull, it was sticky like syrup).

I am from the honeysuckle, the caprifoliaceous shrub,
Whose sweet nectar I taste as
Smooth petals kiss silk against my own

I am from fish fries and wide smiles, from Pearly-Dean and Berry
I am from the I got this and you can handle it
From stop cryin’ and I’mma give you somethin’ to cry about

I am from My Lord, He's done just what He said,
With a lighthouse shine
And a mimicked hand outstretched just like my momma

I'm from seeded cotton and hailed cabs,
Fried green tomatoes and sweet tea
From the house Ada hid under, the scar on Nana’s chest that says ‘I survived’

I am from the cardboard box,
Holding polyester flowers
Clinging to particles of dust from house to house

I am from these moments-
Plucked from vase to vase
Adapting to a different design, place to place