I wonder what it felt like: the prehistoric DNA that curled through its reptilian veins, twisted and full of knowledge. I wonder what its dragon's spines felt like, dwindling from the mold of skin that once outlined a slow-moving mountainside – a rough, breathing country.
I wonder what it was like, to see inside the eyes that had blinked through the birthing lakes of a green age, to witness the lifting of a planet's sleep. I wonder what it was like, to feel the bony architecture of claws and teeth growing out of its body, blueprints for unimagined generations.
I wonder what the cold blood was like – Arctic blue and ice - resting in pools inside of muscles and tendons stretched like yards of living fabric. These yards wove a Mesozoic tapestry that nurtured prehistory's secrets within its threads. An embroidery of nerves, with synapses glowing like bonfires, urged the sinews into movement – shifting the plates of a protesting earth, challenging its young geology.
I wonder what it felt like, the tornado of years spinning down paths of extinction and exhaustion. I wonder what it was like to evolve to this final place, to be a dinosaur, full of memories, warming itself on a brick one sunny afternoon.