Conversations with God VI

It’s only when Cheryl-Ann Buford

comes to my cell

that I at least sit up in bed

Then she says

Is this your way of telling us

that you prefer solitary?

Because we can arrange it

I prefer to be in the class that lady

was teaching, I mumble

Poetry? Oh, that’s a perk, Mr. Shahid

A treat for those who do

what they’re supposed to

It’s not part of your regular program

You can only participate in

special activities after demonstrating

good behavior, Amal

I’m sorry but you’ll have to earn

your way into that poetry class

Cheryl-Ann Buford says

Then she hands me some envelopes

mail from Umi and—

Tell you what, she continues

You can start back with your classes

on Monday and we’ll see how it goes

I hope these letters will lift your spirits, Amal

You have to make the best of your time here

What I want to say:

I don’t want to do the program

That lady was teaching poetry

and I’d be the only one in there

who would even care and

who would listen

to every word she says

every word

What I actually say:

Nothing

My dear Amal—

The only way to survive hell

is to walk through

Amal—

You have to meditate

study your Quran

do your daily prayers

ask for forgiveness

courage and strength

Amal—

Umi’s letters are too soft for this place

They force me into a bubble

make me float into thick air

and then with just one shout

one slamming of a metal door

one guard yelling my name

or my inmate number

I will burst

The first time I feel something

other than stones and bricks

on my chest

is when I see the name

on one of the envelopes

I read it over and over again

to make sure that

the arrangement of letters

the handwriting

the words

are what I think they say

are who I think it is

Zenobia

Zenobia

Zenobia

Part of me wants to

wait to open it

Part of me wants to

tear it open

So I place it under the mattress

like cash

and save it for when the day comes

when I can’t take it no more

and I feel like my heart is

about to split open

This letter from Zenobia

will be here waiting for me

like glue

like Grandma’s needle and thread

to fix me and put me back together again

Butbut

what if she’s waiting for me

Time is different for her

So I open it slowslow

slowly

and—