“I wish I could put your voice in a jar, and wait for those lonely summer nights when I forget what God sounds like, run to the nearest maximum security prison and open it. Watch the notes bounce of the walls like ricocheting bullets, etching keyholes into the sternums of every brother in the room. Skeletons opening rose blossom beautiful to remind you, that the way to a black man's heart is not through his stomach, but through the heaven in your hello. ”