the thought of raw
fish
does not appeal
to you, but she
insists
on sushi. eel
salmon, strange
fish
you've never
heard of.
the living goo
of the ocean
all stuffed between
the walls
of rolled rice,
seaweed paper
as black as night.
hand me the wasabi,
the soy
sauce, the ginger
and saki, give me
room before
I blow up
and fall to the floor
with chopsticks
in my eyes.
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