In her lyrical letter to her mother, The One Doesn’t Stir without the Other, Luce Irigaray writes, “Don't engulf your-self or me in what flows from you into me. I would like both of us to be present. So that the one doesn't disappear in the other, or the other in the one. So that we can taste each other, feel each other, listen to each other, see each other-together.” Irigaray holds that the distance between her mother and her is what allowed them to see one another. When the one is too submerged in the other, how can we look at the selves we share together? Irigaray illuminates the mother-daughter pairing within the framework of simultaneous unity and separation. There is space between the one and the other, and that space is also filled with what they share. They are like two room joined by a corridor; mother and daughter are both separate and tethered into a unity of pieces.