My heart yearns for the song,

whispering softly through the Angel Oaks.

My teeth ache for the too-sweet sweet tea,

the golden elixir softens my smile.

My eyes search for the Colonial architecture,

pastels and columns remind me of home. 

My arms beg for my Mimi,

her hugs warm me to my core, 

her voice makes my mother nostalgic.

My soul reaches for Charleston,

history seeps into my feet with every step I take.

A never-ending tightness in my chest,

pulling me, down, 

down, 

to the South.