Month: December 2020


Our love,
a time bomb.
Short wick.

© Tamara Natividad | | 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,
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 | | Written 19 December 2020