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Justin H. Montgomery 
Brisque and succinct. A few words to describe me. I am a no frills person seeking correspondence with people of similar style. I create . . . with visuals, with the written word, and with sound. I am a storyteller. My mind, body and spirit are vigorous. My search for knowledge runs deep and my hunger is far from being satiated. If you can't tell, I enjoy drama. If you wish to contact me, come as you are. I want to meet people; all types, all sizes, all shapes, and all outlooks. The world beyond these walls is too large to gaze at one small slice. I want to experience.
I have learned quite a bit about being alone over the past eight years. At eighteen I killed a man and began my lessons. I've learned to develop the strengths of mind, body, and spirit through long weeks of trying. I have also learned of the weaknesses of this all to human experience. I have never delved into the depths of a personal relationship. As the years roll on, the hunger for warmth and affection of another has grown. I am looking for the one person to fill the void. I am looking for the person willing to share their experiences, their time, and eventually, their heart. The time I have left to spend in these halls is short. In five years, I will be free. I hope to have found the one person who will help me know the wonders I have missed.
I am a man willing to try things outside the accepted norm. There is little in this world I am adverse to experiencing. Come as you are; be the person you were born to be. Surprise me.
Address: Justin H. Montgomery #758264
Stafford Creek Correctional Center
Housing Unit H5-A089
191 Constantine Way
Aberdeen, WA 98520
Birthdate: October 10/1976
Expected Date of Release: April 12/2009 
the sand between her toes.
Her foot prints vanished up the shore
They were just beyond the water's reach
They led from here, to no where;
to the sun, held suspended, just before dawn.
I miss that.
That seaside grayness.
That unique shade of light over overcast oceans
when the sand is only slightly brighter
then the sea
or, the sky
or
her skin.
No, she never minded it, I guess
the sand between her toes, but
the kelp would hold her enthralled.
It had been everywhere.
Where-ever you looked, up and down the strand
there were these mountains of salty decaying sea
hair.
It had been in her eyes.
Those gray eyes
dawn eyes haunted by the crabs rushing from the
seaweed to slash discolored wounds into her skin;
gray skin.
No, she never minded it
the sand between her toes as everything she had
been faded, faded with the footprints under leaden
skies
just before dawn.
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