Honest Chaos

My people married their first cousins and passed on crooked backs and congenital deafness - my people scraped desert island hills into terraces and pleaded with the earth - my people gathered the rain in cisterns hidden beneath their huts.   There was never enough, and poverty only begets beauty and generosity in the movies. It's only true children are fear and jealousy. And that is why my people set sail and did not return.