Things that pop in my mind at (insert time); Dino
By: Aliyah Curry
Things that pop in my mind at (insert time)
Before the sexual assault,
we went to a reptile convention,
pricing bearded dragons
to complement the yellow-green lady
in the cage in his bedroom.
(On my occasional visits,
before an invariable argument,
I would sprinkle her worms
or whatever it is bearded dragons eat
into her cage,
then let her turn my body into her couch,
falling in love with her texture
and vowing that instead of a pearlesque snake,
I now wanted a sunburst baby.)
After the day
(it feels like a full day, but didn’t take
more than an hour to happen)
in the den,
the bearded dragon died.
My two-inch green dinosaur guards the crystals
on the higher plane of my bathroom counter-
green, marbly amazonite and a satin spar
the dino and I meditate on,
our short arms stretched out.
Plastic, stone, and flesh, all textured in scratches
This T-rex or what-have-you has a brother,
somewhere in the car of an ex-lover,
if it has not been lost by that ex-lover,
in his car full of hoodies and water bottles
and headphones he can’t find.
I tell him about the moon one night at the park
after sucking his dick,
how you tell beginner about the moon-
pretty, nice things, but also about its strength.
He strokes my thigh as I’m telling him
the full moon is coming,
trying to give him the crystal in my pocket
but his hand holds my breast.
His dino was nestled in the cup holder
when got to the park; now,
I imagine it has been taken hostage
by a barrage of discarded items
from a spilled backpack.
Though he is speeding carelessly, I let him hold my hand,
his fingers course as the selenite my dinosaur guards.
Aliyah Curry is a Southern bred writer, focusing on Black female sexuality and mental health. When she is not writing poetry and short stories, she makes film, theater, and photographs, travels, and has dance parties with her niece. Her words can be found in Port City Review and Permission to Write.