Our love,
a time bomb.
Short wick.
© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 19 December, 2020
Our love,
a time bomb.
Short wick.
© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 19 December, 2020
There is nothing,
short of absence
flocked as well in chasm as expanse;
deplete of all and nourishment
in trance with echoed dance,
which,
farmed as wealth for plunder
wears a cold and faceless frieze;
as lingering and as formless,
it, bequeathed in whole disease
whilst bounded by detachment
mirrored, stale
and faint,
and seized
as broken hearts denied repair
to leak, unprized, uneased
© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 19 December 2020