• Harlot Queens

Dearest and Darling Hellenora,

The days that go by without being with you are surely no less dark than the blackest of starless nights. I burn for you more than a flame burns a log to ash. I do not confess to know how we could be together, you a noble lady and me a stable master. But I pray that someday our love can be known.

Yours evermore,

Walter Hayley

P.S Though I have not received a response to my letters since our trist, I expect you are far too busy with the man in fancy robes I’ve seen escorting you through town. I should warn you, I’ve heard talk among some of his servant staff regarding gruesome punishments.

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  • Harlot Queens

My Dearest Hellenora,

Your eyes glimmer like the jewels on my rings. And I adore your laughter, even when you are just trying to appease the new garden boy – his jokes are not very good, but you are so polite.

I love you more than a rose loves its petals.

Truly yours,

Henry Northcott

P.S. I have noticed a very strange taste in my soup. I’m sure it’s the cook misusing the herbs. I shall see that she is dismissed and punished in the morning if I am feeling well enough; I’ve had the most terrible headaches as of late.

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  • Harlot Queens


Sleeping beneath

The surface of the earth,

A millennium waiting for just the

Right moment, and then a breakthrough.

Pressure building, temperature rising, banging on

The ceiling that was once the lock to your dark prison.

Deep breath, a pause, and then victorious rise through the

Earthy gate and ascending quickly above and beyond the mountainous

Landscape, into the sky and among the clouds, higher than you had known even existed.

You spread your cloudy, ashen wings and relish your freedom as you hang in the air and envelope the planet.

Another breath,

And a sudden collapse in thousands of tiny pieces,

Spilling over rock and dirt and living things.

And what was once a world full of

Unknown possibilities is now

A grey wasteland covered

In ash and deathly

Hot lava.