By Amelia Díaz Ettinger
when I was four, I knew how to say no
but not when to scream it
in an airconditioned room
no became silent
and it obeyed quietly, as my no
was his for the taking
when I was four, I learned words
were freely taken, and a child’s no
could carry no further than a sigh
so, I pretended it didn’t happen
and my no hid under beds—for decades
no one knew any better
today no has grown
and it no longer hides
its dragon breath
is mine for the taking
I can’t take its fire
back to that chilled room
but I can carry
its torch a little further
Amelia Díaz Ettinger is a published BIPOC poet and writer whose works appear in many literary journals and magazines. She currently has two books of poetry available and a chapbook.