Girl Amputee   My tongue unfurls to unlearn the language of lying; I realize that I am never grateful for any kind of pitying look hurled like a wet towel in my direction. I can race, legless and all, straight to the end of the line. And that is not only a matter of perspective from this corner of the room where the schoolteacher only calls on me when he knows that I have the right answer, thinks that he must not add salt to the stump under my skirt.     - Kristine Ong Muslim