On foreign soil
I laid my feet
in foreign arms
I kissed on foreign streets.

In other beds
I gave my body
on other beds
locked in naked bodies.

In fleeting holds
I found my needs
while fleeting was
the hold that let me feed.

In other hands
I saw you take
wondering what
hold in mine you’d make.

On tender lips
I left my taste
on other lips
I lingered long on waste.

On sleepless nights
I laid awake
twisting nights
the darkness could not break.

On salty sands
I walk on waves
and salty tears
I cast for time and tide to fade

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly