queen of underworlds


kiss her freckles,

chart them against the constellations

that have never been seen.

lips on hair

laced with roses.

was the journey to hell worth it?


fingertips against skin,

map out the whole blueprint

of the underworld

lay a wreath of flowers

on the dark crown of his head.

can you see me in the darkness?


feel the cold winter breeze,

bare knees and skinning ankles

around the barren ground.

hear the cries of the famished,

see the withering wildflowers.

am i still a mother?


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