Memories From a 10 Year Old





The glass comes between our love.

My hand reaches for the father that is gone.

"No touching allowed!" 

Orange jumpsuits?--they have been putting us in those things long before Guantanamo.

A long row of desperate communication to my left and to my right.

I pick up the industrial black transceiver so we can talk.



‪#‎Jail‬ ‪#‎NewJimCrow‬

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