The Great Mirror of Same-Sex Love - Poetry - 88. ...flocks of white doves...
Letters Come to Prison
From the cold hand of guards
Flocks of white doves
Handed to us through the bars.
Our hands like nests hold them
As we unfold the wings
They crash upward through
Layers of ice around our hearts.
As we leave our shells
And fly over the waves of fresh words.
Gliding softly on top of the world
Flapping our wings for the last horizon,
High in the blue sky of someone’s Gay Love.
—Shahid Roosevelt Williamson,
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