I Speak

It’s not just my scarred face, my riven soul,
my tormented body.

I also speak for three lepers
one who is filthy
four who are pitiable
a thousand mutes
two with a club foot
ten who’ve never had a man
five thousand cloistered ones
and four whose heads are covered.

For three who are denied a job
two who don’t go to school for they aren’t whores
three hundred who’ve been raped for they are whores.

For a little one
who believes she’s leprous filthy pitiable mute.

And for one who is free
who meekly waits
to be born.