Shall we not name the rose
But instead eat of it
A cacao bean far traveled
From the breast of the Maya
Refreshed in the depths of Atitlán
Food for the Gods
In the shade of zapote
A sacred pod
Its beating heart
And a grape pressed between
Sunset horizons
Crimson flowing
Sanguine streams
Beneath feet dancing
Mellifluous syrup
Into your hand
A smoke-filled crystal
Mine caressing a lion’s mane
LiNdA
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