by Regine Jackson
Where do Valkyries go when there’s no war left to fight,
When the embers of last night’s
Fire dwindles to a smoldering heap?
Where can a woman breathe
In this no man’s land?
Crumbs of kisses
Lead to immaculate deception
And still births lead to
Still and hollow lives
***
Regine Jackson is a writer based in Springfield, Massachusetts, specializing in short stories across science fiction, horror, and fantasy genres. Additionally, she explores themes of inner-city life and womanhood through her poetry and prose. In 2022, Jackson was the recipient of the Straw Dogs Writers Guild Emerging Writer Fellowship, and her literary contributions have been featured in publications such as the 2024 Massachusetts Bards Anthology, Pán•o•ply, and Gnashing Teeth Publishing. Her upcoming publications include contributions to A Queen’s Narrative: Heavy is the Crown and the Reimagining New England Histories Project. For more details, please visit reginejackson.com or @theflimsyquill on Instagram.
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