One thinks of deafness as complete stillness.
But oh no, that is wrong. — Fini Straubinger
deafness is not silence
says the deafblind
a voice as if its own echo
blindness is not darkness
an inconstant noise never ceasing
crackles pops
static
sound fury
a dim promiscuous chaos
indistinct color incomplete shapes
abortions of form
to reach out
what even is out
in a world without depth
what beneath above
or within
to touch what
touches back
somewhere
what is where
near
whatever near be
what touches back
is you
whatever you be
and so
instanter
from chaos
am I
beneath above
or within
sound fury
the articulation of fingers
there
I am you are
become we
a smile plays on her lips
of a conqueror
