Coiled on your plate, 

a harlequinned ring of 

beheaded, de-bodied flesh,

hamachi-kama, 

adorned with tiny twin wings

of spiny skin, 

ruffled fans, as if flight still

were possible.

You dissect it, this 

filigreed semi-serpent, feather 

through neck muscle to find

the most delicate part, 

a tender sliver 

walled off by membrane.

Your chopsticks reach

for my mouth. 

I take the warm white tangle

with my teeth and tongue, 

let you feed me intimacy,

memories.

You must know

what you do 

because 

when you see me smile

you do it again.