Letters of a inmate by:Lolita Gill

Incarcerated you were when sweet words of Honey dew dropped from your ripe peach lips.

A sense of melancholy over come by pure tenderness.

Fantasies of infatuation misplaced by unique fascination.

Is it hardness that you shed, sitting on your cot like bed?

Is it by truth that you are led or illusions of loneliness cloaked in dread?

When you write your letters what is in your head?

By what forces are you fed?

The sky is baby- blue and the fire red hot red.

Do you know what ground you tread?

While you are in jail you correspond with me...

when you are free I become a faded memory?