for bobbie and terry
by Norma Stafford

we sit together, you and i,
bound by our mutual suffering
at the hands of our keepers
we make jokes that force
our minds to leave here
and follow the hard path of laughter
we laugh at our condition
both the physical and the mental.
tears are pushed forward
by the onslaught of anger
we strike out at each other
hard furious blows that bruise
and sometimes draw blood
then we fall sobbing into
the arms of each other
the tender hands of each
ministering to the wounds of the other
such gentleness, such hate, such love
we feel one for the other
locked together, bound together
in this small hated space.