Spinosaurus Grave

A ray of light shines through wet ferns.
Every unwilling step brings me closer.
Your teeth and sail frozen in the stone.

I touch the frost-covered limestone,
frigid and unyielding.
Your yellow eyes track me— stripping flesh from my bones.

I push the wall with all my strength.
Why won’t you let me in?
My nails are ripped from my fingers.
A bloated worm comes out of a rotten ginkgo seed.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kate Lisinski is a poet from Poland whose work has previously appeared in Scifaikuest, Space and Time, and Star*Line. Her poetry draws on folklore and visceral imagery, transforming familiar landscapes into unsettling psychological spaces where beauty, decay, longing, and violence coexist.