Pennyroyal, an antidote

Grant Campbell

Sierra Martinez, Contributor

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The Prince

No one warned me a lady’s feet grew during pregnancy. Apparently, something called relaxin makes the ligaments in her feet stretch. If I had known this, my Kingdom could have done without an heir.

And what pretty feet she had, Lilies of my love,
flattened.

His Maiden

“Lilies of my love,” he’d often say as he kissed my feet and slip them in different shoes. Some of gold, of glass, of fur. The glass ones were his favorite, fueled his affection. Now this cinderbelly unable to fan the flames of our love. I miss the attention.

The glass ones don’t fit anymore, Lilies of his love,
gone.

The Prince

There’s not even a baby to show for it now.

His Maiden

What if it would’ve been a girl. What if she had smaller feet than me.

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