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The handset receiver of a rotary phone hanging by its wire.
Photo from Unsplash

bruised skinned bloody
knees always betray
steel face and mission
statement gait, because
in your freedom
there is power over me;
I, forced to rely on you,
my need incremental
pours down on you torrential
eroding that which was once
concrete, solid
until the remains are sediment
and I, corrosive — please,
pick up the phone.

Disclaimer: The views in this article are those of the author. Prison Journalism Project has verified the writer’s identity and basic facts such as the names of institutions mentioned.

Kashawn Taylor is a writer incarcerated in Connecticut.