Never take these words for granted.
As snow, they will fall and freeze,
everything you know will turn white,
blank as the eye of an ice seal.
That is how Eskimos lose their way,
too much snow, it is why they bead
their moccasins and fur their hoods,
why their faces turn brown with wind
and sun, why they walk for miles and miles,
in search of the perfect nose rub,
by the light of a lamp, fueled by whale fat,
just to hear Nagligivaget
just to feel her eyelashes against a wrist
just to shed the skin of a thousand tribes
I have walked far to find you,
I am weary, let me rest;
Nagligivaget
I love you.
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