History Lesson
The word, ‘Turkish,’ so sweet, so brutish. The word, ‘Armenian,’ in the roof of your mouth. We make love between turns we take to say them, these two words like stars in singing constellations burning the distance between them, utter each consonant, suck each vowel like the tail of an oud, thrust each syllable, purse the Turkish lip like sugar, mention that Armenian is more gauche, like a horse, a spit in the dark....