Queen of the Underworld

A flash from Dark Is The Water & Other Wyrd Tales (2022)

Like a well-read book, I fall open on his favourite page. Words tumble from our mouths.

Lips electric. Eyes wide; They are cavern holes, luring, consuming every part of me, taking enough time. We merge our stories. His breath deep and steady, my heart like a starling in my chest. We peel back versions of each other to get to the inner truth. Like remembered rituals in a foreign language.

Our rivers intertwine as he leans over and buries his head into my neck. I'm lost to the mortal world, as he sinks deeper into the roots of me. Power warms within and without. I let him think he’s reached my centre.

Crowned, now and always as Queen of the Underworld. My hands search for his head jigsaw clicked with my body, I pull and release it from my jugular. He has served his purpose.

I have an aversion to stasis. I am nauseous at small talk. I brood, then erupt. Reforming for the better. I am breezy about being underestimated, made out to be smaller, assumed to take up less space. I will show them soon enough.

Looking out onto the coast, the wind carries the cries from the stone slabs at the top of the hill. Here, a silky tail curls around him, a leathery paw pokes from beneath as he sleeps, curled in a ball. I nurture the seed. We are back from hell and we have changed. People pass and we are unseen. I do the inner work, becoming ready behind the invisible windows.

Photo by Lucas Pezeta via Pexels