I swear, I'd lose my head if it wasn't attached. Oh wait, It's not and I did.
There's this whole victorian aspect of the thing. Kind of sweet and surreal, a darker shade of white. And a shadow in the doorway begging me to seek shelter from the heat and humidity.
There's an air of southern charm and a deep sense of comfort in the drifting of these dried vines across the pavement.
Though my path is not crossed the way is not clear and I'm perfectly content to live in this strange state of almost torment. I enjoy the sensation of labored breathing through the sticky air and the tiny beads cascading downward across my flesh after only a few short seconds in the blazing sun.