“You wanted a kingdom? This is what remains when you stop pretending.”
She rules over the hollowed field where lovers come to leave their illusions. Here, devotion hardens into barbed wire. Here, a kiss leaves a scar more lasting than a blade. She watches the pilgrims kneel, their knees sinking into the dirt, and she whispers: la reina de las espinas
The Coronation of Silence
And so she sits. And so she waits. And the thorns grow on. “You wanted a kingdom