tutuyea made the caribou's eyes
sad and only a little afraid
she curled its foreleg around the wolf
it's almost tender
this caribou-wolf embrace
i make tutuyea dead for my poem
she carries her tongue on her back
shaped like a wolf
the story flows out
passes before tutuyea's closed eyes
holding the wolf story with both hands
she touches her lips to the polished stone
cool and smooth
it falls through her hands
and makes the world