From 9a2e2a9c3e0396f956381b8ee4af80fe3e8cf652 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Case Duckworth Date: Mon, 2 Mar 2015 18:31:47 -0700 Subject: Add thing class to pieces in template; recompile --- weplayedthosegamestoo.html | 2 +- 1 file changed, 1 insertion(+), 1 deletion(-) (limited to 'weplayedthosegamestoo.html') diff --git a/weplayedthosegamestoo.html b/weplayedthosegamestoo.html index f695fbd..5f3368a 100644 --- a/weplayedthosegamestoo.html +++ b/weplayedthosegamestoo.html @@ -24,7 +24,7 @@ -
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I saw two Eskimo girls playing a game
blowing on each other’s’ vocal chords to make music
on the tundra. I thought about how
once we played the same game
and the sounds blowing over the chords of our throats
was the same as a wind over frozen prairie.
We are the Eskimo girls who played
the game that night to keep ourselves warm.
I run my hands over my daughter’s
voicebox as she hums a song
about a seal and about killing the seal and about
skinning it and rendering the blubber
into clear oil to light lamps.
I remember you are my lamp. She remembers
you although you left before she arrived.
I can never tell her about you.
I will never be able to express that taste of your oil
as we pushed our throats together.
I will never be able to say how
we share this blemish like conjoined twins.
I will fail you always to remember you.

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