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A pitcher of black tea 
Bitter but refreshing 
Six spoons of sugar 
Tastes so saccharine  

I drank so deeply 
Of that Southern sweet tea 
The sugar laced my lips 
And the caffeine filled my blood 

It feels so sweet 
Warm like the blazing summer sun 
Ever present on my back 
Seen as the heat of the Southern God’s gaze 

My skin burns a sinner’s red 
A carcinogenic weight of judgment 
Spreads beneath my peeling shell 
It’s corruption has long since set in 

Mold creeps across the pitcher’s surface 
My lips sparkle sweet 
My tongue rots 
My blood runs thick with bile 

Eris Hembree

Southern Sweet