September 13, 1959 - Sing Sing, Ossining, NY

THE EARLY LETTERS HAVE BEEN DELETED SO THE ENTIRE EPISTLE MAY BE PUBLISHED. YOU CAN FIND US ON KINDLE AND MOBIBOOK Under the same title.

JB, Your letter arrived yesterday — weeks after you sent it. I guess the guards enjoyed it because it is spotted with coffee stains and worn around the edges by the matron’s rough hands rubbing it, I suppose.

When and if I get out? You want to swim with turtles while I’m in here with the sharks? Patience? Tied up? You are a cruel trickster. If only I had some silk stockings and a bedpost, I’d tie you up and show you a thing or two. We ruthless types are not that patient.

It gets tiring being tough. Do you find that? You put on this invincible personae like a suit of clothes. But who is under the surface? Crime, prison, secret service, neither really allows for change. When it is all over we are just empty suits, James, cold, calculating, heartless, guiltless, impatient for the next thing to come along, be it a woman, adventure or both.

I really can’t see you as a Calvinist. You seem more the hedonist. Do you see the irony that you felt guilty for your sexual whims and not your license to kill? You are a complicated and turbulent man, James. Perhaps that is why I am so attracted to you. You are more complex than any woman I have ever known and twice as spirited.

I await your next epistle from the real world, but try not to be too real in it. I can’t fathom talk of ten years in this place. I prefer to fantasize about how you are misbehaving, even if it is not with me, some form of entertainment other than watching the bull dykes jockey for position in the prison pecking order.

PG

PS Do you really think you’d pass my naked pale moon of a bottom, flutter kicking in front of you? No one ever has.

PPS The crane looks right up my alley.