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Stream of Conciousness in Coroico

I’m sitting on the side of this mountain

My left foot in the shade and my right foot in the sun. My left toenail is a lot longer. My chin is in my hand and I feel my fingers pull the skin on my cheek and my lips and my nail polish is green.

It’s the same color as the monstera and palms that cast shadows across my legs. The air is empty except for the faintest scent of rain. It carries the crows of roosters and the buzzing of a dragonfly.

My mother loves dragonflies.

I feel like I could step off the side of the mountain and the wind would carry me gently. I keep thinking about that when I’m on mountain faces. In the Frailes and on Chacaltaya I thought and imagined about sinking down in the air and watching the face of the mountain change and landing at the base in the valley.

Sometimes you leave your mind and return to the world and there is a grasshopper on your thigh with only 5 legs and a flower in your hand. You look at the ground around you and you don’t see any other flowers.

How did it arrive between your fingers?