It’s outstanding
what odours
can own,
how biographies
in bottles
can board,
how illusions can lie lay
in liquids,
how subtle scents
can be savoured.
I sprayed you
today
on my hands
-so cold to caress-
from a bottle,
a simple bottle,
in a shop,
a simple shop,
in a city
that never saw us,
in a land
that never heard us,
or knew
what we felt
or how we smelt,
that never caught
our connection
shattering into pieces,
leaving nothing
but a sweet scent
on the sheets
of other beds
in other streets.
All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly