she still holds the juice of a peach on her tongue,   the pit blossoming on moss next to her feet.  she reeks of meadows & horses.   known as the newest tsaritsa to her kingdom              she-wolf,   by her bird-husband.   

but she turns sour with her thoughts,   it will never be her kingdom.   not like how he wields it.   not like how she wants it.   so she turns to the foreign man,    his presence strange & dominating.

❛   this is what i   LIVE   for.   ❜