Eels are the physical manifestations of souls.
That sounds quite unbelievable, I know. Just
hear me out on this. Wrinkles, moles,
eye color, teeth or not, the dust
accompanied from digging or from hidden caves,
all tell such unique stories. The eels
just seem to slip through the waves
so elegantly because they have programmed ideals.
As a child I would visit this
electronics store with a tank so smooth.
Admiring one eel while blowing a kiss
or staring at its inability to move
beyond its territory, was what I did.
There was some pity for the creature
since it had the potential to benefit
by swimming a bit further. No teacher,
however, will convince it to transcend the
life it knows.
When an eel’s life comes finally end,
who will guide it for what’s next?
Or will the eels simply know?
Will there be chaos?