1. Bones, like words, are easily misread. Broad lizard. Flat lizard. 2. The Triassic was computer-screen wide. Flicking in the foreground without a naming. What beautiful word will another creature use to name our history-scape. 3. We lay down in the carved-out earth beside the contorted bones of the dinosaur. His fingers splayed out as if he were trying to grasp a rustling — as if there were still foliage to be torn apart. 4. My brother and I mimic his pose. We try to see the bones inside each other by staring hard and deep. 5. The bones lurk like sharks beneath tides of skin. 6. We ask the dinosaur how he died and the bones don't move and so we have to dig them up and my brother uses a plastic shovel and I use a spoon. We have to be gentle. 7. I know that it isn't true but I want to imagine the dinosaur arranging his bones himself — laying down gracefully and declaring this is how I want to be found. 8. After working all night in the yard, I tell my brother This is how I want to be found as I lie on the floor of my bedroom two floors up in our old farm house that winces with each gust of wind. He tells me I don't want to ever be found.