Luneshale Pass colina

soto measures the seconds between her breaths; inhale, exhale —

and sees the celestial dance of infusion behind her eyes. the broadening of black pupil. the dying spark of a drunken star come to the surface —

it’s all part of the cosmic dance of the green.

he leans forward excitedly — hungry to know the potency of his carefully crafted elixir. she’s spinning out mentally and he can tell, it’s in the shaky way she rises and suddenly she announces she needs to lie down.

his eyebrow raises mischievously. with company, he hopes.

es buena, he encourages, motioning with a broad palm towards the soft river grass that could be her bed. venga conmigo. the anaconda purls, inviting her to follow him as he leads her through a forest of river reeds.