Sleepy Fox Hollow extrusive ii

the frog squirms down his throat.
kicking.
they dont put up much a fight 
once stomach acid reaches them.

blue mist wades the stems of old summer grass,
his spear of a head lifting
as the horse whickers and speaks.

now he folds his wings
and stares
black china doll eyes resting on the endless liquid of her own.

did she truly just ask that question?