I wanted to paint my face in Alabama red clay. I wanted to spread the Earth over me, breathe it through my skin, bathe in it like a cleansing, blessing, flesh of the soil of the Old People. I heard bluejays calling nearby, somewhere over there through the trees and a joy came to me for their voices. I couldn't live without them, the trees or people. I sat under one evening sunset, yellow light settling into blue while the sky curved closer to the Earth.
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