The Apache word for love twists
       then numbs the tongue:
Uttered once clear, said –
       never that word again.
 
“Cousin,” you call, or “Sister” and one
       more word that spins
In the dust: a talk-flake
       chipped like obsidian.
 
The girl who hears this flake and
       follows you into the dark
Turns at a touch: the night desert
       forever behind her back.