Status Updates From Isola

We were prisoners of love but not as poets would describe. We had lost hope and equanimity but not for any passion of our own. The list of a young man confined us. His wealth and his position trapped us upstairs. Pg 39

~Was it strange to talk like this?Its stranger still 2live upon the isle.2love freely but live with such uncertainty.Each day presented new riddles.What is home without a door?What is prison without walls?We ate fresh meat but slept outside,as beggars did at home.We had property&yet are impoverished.Here,we were rulers&our own subjects too~
~It is not wilderness,but our own country&he has nothing more to do with it~