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  • JS Watts


By JS Watts

These words are not mine.

My whispers have become the echo

of others’ silence. I am a bell

without a clapper, a violin

without strings and I resonate

to a tune I cannot call.

A song without a tongue.

My mouth is full of rust,

is full of ash: ash of mouth

ash of ear and ash of eye.

Everything is gone to ashes.

Shake me. There is nothing left to rattle.

I am an empty vessel.

Speak at me, I echo your thoughts.

Look at me, bright as a new penny

on the outside, I reflect your image.

Strike me, your praises reverberate.

Use me, use me,

make of me what you will.

I will intone the catechism I have learned.

I will not doubt this creed of disability.


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