i couldn't pick up the snake while you were watching

garter snakes have 
one long yellow line 
down their backs like a seam of light.
the snake stares at us, uncoiled &
unblinking. the length of my arm.
basks in a slat of warm sun 
projected on the creek rocks.
we crouched under the little stone bridge
by your house. cool grey stone 
& our flip-flopped feet. i recalled
a moment where my dad taught me
to grab a snake right behind the head
so it cannot turn to bite you.
you always grabbed me 
by the throat. you had thin but long fingers.
only to myself i called them
"snake fingers." when my hands were smaller
i would not hesitate before 
plucking snakes from the water & the grass.
one in each hand, i once walked to show them
to my dad for him to determine their species.
the snakes would gaze dark 
& fearfully before i'd let them go.
this snake, the one under the bridge
stared cold & void. i could see
my relfection warped & miniature in the animal's 
black glossy eyes. the sun would soon set & 
we'd lay in your bed talking to each other's bodies.
your tongue a ripe snake. my face a pile
of rocks. my tongue a ripe snake
your face a pile of rocks. you wanted me
to grasp. to grab the garter snake
right around the neck. what did you want
to witness in me? fear? 
you had seen fear. you had seen all kinds 
of my movements. why this one. 
you begged. you said you couldn't do it 
not without me. now we were talking
about something else & not the snake
though still the snake. a promise ring
is a kind of snake as is 
a window & a day running out of itself.
i talked loudly to scare the creature off.
i wanted to say 
go & be free. get away from us.
instead i told you 
i think it's scare. look how scared. 
the snake slipped away & all night
to made me promise to go back again
in search of another.