BLUE WILLOW

ARMEN DAVOUDIAN

My mother sliced the cucumbers on a plate and sprinkled them with salt and lemon juice. A dragon inked in blue, fat as a goose, shone through their pale translucent flesh. We ate the puckering slices, my brother and I, then dared each other to drain the juice. I wasn’t scared. The jellied seeds quivered like dragon spawn. Glazed with acid yellow, their mother glared

and I glared back, startled by my own eyes on the plate. And then it was as though when I tipped up the dish and sucked the brew, the thick spawn burned my throat all the way through and, hatching there, made my whole body shudder. I grabbed the knife and pointed at my father.

Reynaldo Rivera, Untitled (Olga, Silverlake Lounge), 1997. Courtesy of the artist.

Reynaldo Rivera, Untitled (Goddess Bunny, Mugi’s), 1994. Courtesy of the artist.