The Girl in the Wire Cage
Every day she makes her way
from her place to mine, and
every day she has her say
to everyone standing in line
as I am patiently waiting, and
watching the reflection off her hair
that tears the rust off my heart.
Every day she hands out meds,
this Florence Nightingale of Jail
and every day I wait my turn
to see her lips part Giaconda smile
at not seeing me for a while,
says my name a little differently,
touches my hand a little longer,
drops the pill on my skin, and
breathes a deep friendly breath,