Ghost clouds gather

over an ice-cold ocean of marble

we cannot break through.

Maybe there is something deeper

within its depths

that we have missed.


All breath is naked.

Movement has been muffed.

The air rigid.

Nothing left to cover up.


I blush under your absence

or do I blush

before the cold truth;

this is it, we are alone,

we will end one day.

All we have failed to learn

will fall through space

like stars,

burnt out

before they’d even begun.


All words and photographs by Damien B Donnelly