Unagi

The first time you taste fresh-
water eel, grilled slow and brushed

with secrets, the glistening, moist
flesh caresses your tongue like a slow

French kiss, dissolving tenderly in
your mouth, and a quiet bliss suffuses

your body as you look across the candle-
lit table at your lover sipping sake;

your cells recall the bliss that generated
this appetite two hours ago-the stirring

of the pot, the slow broil of well-practiced
technique and layers of sweet

glaze from ninety minutes of Riding
the Tiger on the edge of oblivion,

heating and cooling, first faster, then slow,
till the damn bursts without breaking

the seal, and a silent rushing power moves
further inward as bodies merge--

kissing tongues complete the circuit
and the walls begin to glow.

Perhaps with the next bite you'll try
a little wasabi.