Luneshale Pass pantano

For the first time in his life, Niño felt sheer terror.
Nausea deep in the stomach.
Rips and rips, and there’s no letting go.
Sangre with red running down her throat like a waterfall.
Her struggles stilling.

Soto, caught by a flash of tan.
Blood pouring. 

Now he’s one of them.
Shock, as he’s moved across the desert.
Dead eyes stare out at the sand irrigated with blood.
His blood.
But not really seeing it.

Whips his head and yellow teeth collide with heavy black shoulders.
Gets harder to reach.
Harder to fight.
His river flows faster.

Then he’s forced to see– her.
Their Queen bitch.
Rounded face.
Royal eyes that had never known war.
Holding hatred all the same.

His throat makes laughter at that.
Bitter irony.
Sputtering warmth from gouges.
A rare rush of words.

“Tu– rica, ponderosa, capitalista.
Eres el mismo.
Todos ustedes son cartel.
Eres culpable de asesinato, violación, tortura, esclavitud, opresión.
Tu– con tu superioridad.
No pretendemos ser nada de lo que somos.
Prefiero morir con ellos que vivir contigo.”

“¿Crees que esto es todo?
Ni siquiera ha comenzado
Corta una cabeza y crecemos tres más.
¡Chinga te!”

He used his last breath to spit blood onto that perfect pretty pelt.
Then craned his neck to see–
He wanted to see Sangre.
As if his love could save him.
In the end, it wasn’t enough.

He never did see her.
He was struck by teeth instead.
Felt nerves in his throat pull apart.
Felt the last of consciousness drain with his blood.
Felt the rolling of cold eyes.