You bring your tabernacle down low almost graze my hair
then let out the eels that braid out from your mouth.
On parchment your plan sends me palpitations--
Eel Love, coil caresses my throat. You are the sea within
the sea, I am cameo appearance as salty stream.
So many willow leaves, the parentheses that embed your lore:
eel slime, patina of imperial wound, umbilical
entrance, then writhing voyage of too-muchness not-enoughness,
murky ballet of approach & avoidance. Terrible certainty
terrible pendulum-- the Eel Question swims
with me, keeps me alive.
-- Rikki Santer’s poetry has received many honors including five Pushcart and three Ohioana book award nominations as well as a fellowship from the National Endowment for the Humanities. Her eleventh poetry collection, Stopover, which is in conversation with the original Twilight Zone series and will be published this fall by Luchador Press. Please contact her through her website: https://rikkisanter.com