We are lines drawn in the sand,
We are finite ends,
And parallel marks,
You said, ‘surely you must know by now,
We will never touch?’
But I saw the distance between us,
The gaps pushing us apart
And still, I longed for the ocean,
Dragging the shore beneath it,
To pull us under,
I wanted to be thrown together,
The weightless drawing us upward,
As the current swept us away,
Why did I listen amidst the noise?
I could’ve heard you so long ago,
If I stopped listening to the waves,
And heard the silence in our spaces,
The way our edges did not bend,
We sat side by side,
The limits of our lines etched in the grain,
Forming a void we were never meant to cross.
Words by Chantel Bongiovanni
Photography by Ella-Maude Wilson
This piece was originally published in Edition 30.