When all we wanted was a little distance?
Starting out with a cushion on the sofa,
A pillow in between the folds twisting against us,
One word less
And then another.
Every move a single mile.
How all we wanted…
While watching shadows growing stiller
Beyond the window of this other room,
Here, at the end of all these miles,
At home with our wants,
Without a word-
If we’d held a little tighter
Would we have survived the distance now?
All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly