← verse
Love in New Orleans
Love as counter-spell, not sermon.
Hate in New Orleans brews like bad roux — thick, bitter, convincing until the stomach objects.
Love is not anthem only. It is practice: beads thrown as kindness, second line stride, café au lait shared while the shadow still owns part of the block.
Gris-gris exists. So does counter-rhythm.
Savior is declined. Accurate is choosing love the way you choose tempo — again, on the next downbeat.
The second line still outvotes the gris-gris.
JV · Dark Heart Labs