Home Ophelia A. Dimalanta
Ophelia A. Dimalanta
A feasting
Stalking hunger takes on varied
Shades and voices; worst is that
Of a child’s whimper in the dark,
An imprisoned cry, voiceless,
Struggling for release, for the open;
Three...
Passional
Wakes conjure in an uncanny pall,
A kind of sepulchral air evoking
Tombstones turned trysting chambers
For romancing late lovers freed
From life's containing vaults.
How she hates funerals,
This...
